Oooh Oliver
by bitemebirdie
Summary: A new girl arrives in Hogwarts, and instantly takes Oliver's breath away. please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

He stepped through the stonewall between platforms nine and ten, and after a split second of darkness, he re-emerged on the other side. Before him, the Hogwarts Express billowed black smoke into the air. Before he had time to so much as turn around, he was almost knocked over by what seemed at first glance like a pair of red tipped bullets. "Hello George, hey there Fred!" he said a smile dawning on his face as he looked at his beaters. "Have a good hols?"

"BRILLIANT!"

"WE WENT TO EGYPT TO SEE BILL!'

"We tried to lock Perce into a pyramid but mum caught us!"

            Oliver grinned as he tried to understand the tirade of words directed at him. When he could finally get a word in, he asked, "where's the rest of the team?" almost as if responding to some sort of silent command, Oliver saw Katie, Angelina and Alicia bearing down on them large smiles lighting their faces.

            "Where's Harry?" he asked. "Oh, he's with Ron and Hermione somewhere around here," replied George with a nonchalant shrug. "C'mon guys, we'd better get on to the train, we've got three minutes left," said Alicia. As they were boarding the train, Oliver saw Harry being hoarded onto the train by the twins' mother. He thought he saw a glimpse of long brown hair, but dismissed it. "There aren't any girls with long brown hair in Harry's grade, are there?" he thought to himself.

            No sooner had he boarded the train than it set off with a jolt and slowly began to gather speed until the station was but a mere speck in the distance. He followed the rest into a compartment only to find Lee Jordan there already. Angelina sat down next to lee and the twins exchanged glances and then burst into laughter. Oliver looked at Angelina and Lee and then frowned. "Great, just great! That's all I need, my chaser's in love!" thought Oliver to himself.  Even he knew that George was seeing Alicia and Fred, Katie. "What's the big deal with this relationship thing anyway?" muttered Oliver in an undertone. But he couldn't dismiss the niggling doubt that maybe he was missing something, maybe there was something to love after all!

********

            As he walked up the wide staircase that led to the vast great Hall, he felt like he was coming home. The great hall looked as splendid as ever, with candles floating in the air above the tables and the ceiling reflecting the sky outside with stars twinkling like little pinpricks against a deep black background. He sat down at the long Gryffindor table and turned to Alicia who was sitting next to him. "Ready for another year of Quidditch?" asked Oliver. "Ready for it? I can't wait!!"squealed Alicia.

            Before Oliver could respond, a line of first years were led into the Hall for the sorting. But the girl right at the front of the line was no first year by any stretch of the imagination. As she walked past the Gryffindor table towards the teacher's table at the other end of the hall, her long brown hair swishing as she walked, Oliver was aware of all the boys turning around to get a better look at her. "That's the new girl who was with us in the train," whispered Harry. "Her name's Alison and she's a transfer from South Africa. She's in her sixth year." 

            After all the first years collected in front of the teacher's table, and the Sorting Hat was set on the stool, Professor Dumbledore stood up. Looking around the hall through his crescent moon glasses, he began to talk. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Firstly, I would like to remind all the first years that the Forbidden Forest is strictly out of bounds. It wouldn't hurt for some of the older students to remember this as well! Secondly, we have a transfer student from South Africa and I have no doubt that you will all do your best to make her feel at home. Let the sorting begin." And with that he sat down. Professor McGonagall unrolled a piece of parchment and called out the first name. "Adams, Alison" the tall willowy brunette walked onto the platform and sat down on the stool. The last thing she saw before the Sorting Hat was dropped over her head was a lot of heads craning their necks to look at her. She gave a slight start as a voice began to speak in her ear. "How very like your father! Courage, great mental strength and my, my, even the same fiery temper. I have no doubt what to do with you. You could only be in GRYFFINDOR!" Although she didn't show it, she was very relieved. She didn't want to be put in Hufflepuff, and certainly not in Slytherin. On the outside however, her face remained an impassive mask as she walked towards the Gryffindor table. 

            After the sorting, the girl on her right introduced herself as Alicia Spinnet and then proceeded to introduce the rest of the people sitting at the table. In the next half hour, while she ate what was possibly the most splendid meal in her life, she was introduced to Angelina, Katie, Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Lee and Oliver. It didn't take Alison long to figure out that Fred, George and Lee were the pranksters and quite a handful at times. She also realized that the three girls (not including Hermione) were the best of friends and Chasers on the Quidditch team. Harry, Ron and Hermione were another obvious group. The only one she couldn't really figure out was Oliver. He wasn't bad looking. In fact, with his short brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, he was rather attractive. But he didn't seem to have a girlfriend, or even a really good friend. He sort of mingled with everyone, but seemed a little quiet, almost withdrawn! 

********


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            After the meal, all the students went to their own respective common rooms. Alison followed Alicia, Angelina and Katie to the Gryffindor common room where a warm fire burnt in a grate, the flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. In front of the fire, there was an assortment of armchairs, poufs and beanbags. All in all, it looked most inviting. She was then shown to the girl's dorms by Angelina who told her to come back down when she had finished. All of her stuff had already been left near her bed. She walked to the window and looked out across the Great Lake whose surface looked like a sheet of glass, not a single ripple disturbed its star-studded face. 

            In the common room, the first years had gone to bed and the rest were sitting around the fire catching up on what the rest had done for the holidays. Alicia, however, was talking about Alison. "She seems really nice, don't you think?" to which Angelina responded, "Yeah, she seems pretty cool. She's in the dorms now." Fred, George, Lee and Oliver joined the conversation and they agreed that she seemed really nice. At this point Harry and Ron chipped in that she was very funny and had a bit of a wild streak. Just as Hermione opened her mouth to add that she too thought that Alison was very nice, Alison walked back into the common room and flopped down in the free armchair next to Oliver. The conversation had begun to flow again when the painting flew open and Professor McGonagall stepped in. In a clipped voice she shooed them all off to bed and then walked back out.

********

            The next morning Alison awoke early and seeing that the sun had already risen, decided to go for a jog in the grounds. She slipped into her shorts and a white polo neck T-shirt and then put on her sneakers. As she tried to sneak out of the dorm without waking anyone, she walked right into Katie's bed. Katie's groggy voice muttered something about "crazy South Africans" before burrowing under the covers and going right back to sleep. 

            As she walked down the stairs, she shivered. She hasn't though it would be this cold; she was going to have to do some serious running to warm up. 

            Ten minutes later, she was out in the grounds and while she ran, she watched the sky turn from gray to pink to orange, and then suddenly in a flash of gold, the sun rose above the horizon, silhouetting the north tower and casting long dark shadows on the ground beneath it. She headed straight for the Quidditch pitch; the only place that she imagined the teachers wouldn't mind her running alone. She reached the stadium and as she passed through the gates and the field opened up in front of her, she let out an audible gasp. Never before had she seen a field this big; it was quite perfect! 

            A half hour and one and a half laps of the field later, she headed back towards the school, drenched in sweat and hoping that everyone would still be asleep. Luckily for her the only person in the corridors was Peeves and although he probably was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase on his day, he was unusually docile that morning. Perhaps it was the absence of unsuspecting victims upon whom to launch his assault. Whatever it was, Alison made it back to the common room only to find it still deserted for which she was more than a little relieved. She opened the door to her dorm to find three warmly covered heads in the dark and, oh, miracle of miracles, a pair of uncovered feet. She felt her way towards her bed and plonked herself onto it. As she pulled off her shoes, she realized that her shin was throbbing and when she went to inspect it further by the daylight filtering in through the window, she saw a huge blue bruise, roughly the size and shape of a fairly large bell. Groaning to herself, she walked back to her bed, opened her chest of drawers and fished out her clothes and a towel. Before heading out the door again, she yielded to overwhelming temptation and yanked the covers off Katie's curled frame and then fled.

*****

            When she got back from her bath, still toweling her hair vigorously, she found that her 'roomies' had finally gotten up. From the looks Katie was giving her, she figured that Katie was more than a little irritated by the whole bedcover incident. The three of them slowly dressed and then, when they were all finally ready, all four made their way down to the Great Hall. 

            At the Gryffindor table, Alison began to pour out some milk for herself when there was suddenly a sound like the swishing of many wings and then owls of all shapes, colours and sizes flew into the Great Hall holding newspapers or parcels in their beaks and then dropping them near their owners. Oliver, who was sitting next to Alison got a parcel that looked suspiciously like sweets and other homemade goodies. George and Fred who were sitting opposite Alison and Oliver eyed the parcel with a greedy glint in their eyes and then both began to try and catch Oliver's eye. Oliver, though, refused point-blank to meet either twin's gaze and instead, studied his cornflakes with great earnestness, his dark eyebrows knitted and head bowed in the perfect picture of concentration. 

            On the other side of Alison, Katie had got a copy of the Daily Prophet and a letter from her mother. As she had chosen to read her mother's letter first, Alison asked to borrow the newspaper.  Staring at her from the front page was a picture of Sirius Black, one of the most wanted wizards of all time. His black eyes stared out of a skeletal face framed by wild black hair down to his shoulders. Looking over her shoulder, Oliver shuddered and said, "scary looking thing, isn't he?" But Alison didn't answer. Instead, her shoulders drooped as she read the article. Apparently, a Muggle who remembered his face from the news a while back had sighted Black in the area. Fudge, the minister of magic was quoted as saying that he would do everything in his power to apprehend Black and avenge the murder of those twelve Muggles and one wizard so many years ago. As she read on, a frown creased her forehead and her hands began to tremble very slightly. 

            Oliver noticed the frown on her face and was puzzled. For the frown wasn't one of irritation due to the inabilities of the Ministry of Magic, no, it was one of worry, but she couldn't be worried about a cruel murderer, could she? As soon as the thought drifted into Oliver's head, he banished it. That didn't make any sense. No, it had to be something else troubling her. Maybe she just had a headache. But there was still that niggling doubt in his mind that somehow, for some reason; Alison really did care about this man. 

            Before he could puzzle any longer, he heard his friend Darren groan about having Potions with Slytherins again and when Oliver turned away from Alison to ask how he knew, he saw his schedule lying on the table in front of him. All thought of Alison were pushed from his head as he scanned the schedule looking for Potions. And there it was, on Tuesday morning, Potions with Slytherins!! Damn! It was like a curse, a jinx he would never escape. 

            When Alison got her schedule, she saw the letters 'ext.' beside all of her subjects. When she asked what that was, Angelina grabbed for her schedule and let out a gasp. Turning to Alicia and Katie, she said, in an awestruck voice, "she got into the extended course in all her subjects." And then it was Katie and Alicia's turn to gasp and grab for the schedule. Among all this commotion, Alison stared at them, a look of utter confusion plastered on her face. When the other three had finally finished exclaiming and gasping, she asked them what the extended course was. Angelina explained that in sixth year, some of the best students in each subject, who already knew all the material of sixth year course, were pushed up into the extended course, which basically meant that they would be working with the seventh year. Angelina was in extended Care of Magical Creatures, while Katie and Alicia were in extended Herbology. Angelina and Alicia were also in extended Muggle Studies.  But they didn't know anyone who was in all the extended courses. All of this was said in excited tones, though Alison could not quite see what the attraction was with the extended course. Rather confused, and feeling more than a bit silly, she asked in a meek voice, "I don't get it. You all want to do more difficult work??" Looking at her like she had come from Planet Alien, Alicia explained in a condescending voice, as though she were talking to a three-year old, that the guys in the seventh year were more than a bit good looking and quite a few of them were single. And then it clicked in Alison's head. They didn't want to do extra work; they wanted to flirt with the guys. Now this was more something she could understand.

*****

            Her first lesson was Herbology with Hufflepuff. As she walked to the lesson with Katie and Angelina, they told her all about Cedric Diggory, the most eligible, single guy in Hufflepuff. Although she went along with them, pretending to be dizzy with lust at the thought of his perfect features, she secretly promised herself not to fall for this guy, or for that matter, any guy in Hogwarts. 

            They were ushered into the greenhouse by Professor Sprout, a small dumpy witch. She explained that they were going to be learning about Polycartons, small, nasty white plants that, when flowering gave off a putrid smell, similar to that of rotting meat. But, as Professor Sprout explained, the petals of the flowers were extremely useful in cures. What cures she didn't tell them, but Alison knew that it was used to deaden the pain for people who had suffered great injuries, whether physical or mental. However, too much of it could lead to addiction and as a result many laws strictly governed its use.

            As they took down notes about the flowering patterns of this plant, Alison began to look around the class. Angelina and Katie were sitting at the same table as Alison. On their right, there was a group of three Hufflepuff girls: Caroline White, Penelope Perkins and Debra Thomson.  Behind them sat Oliver, Darren and Cedric and Jordan from Hufflepuff. After she had finished writing, she leaned back in her chair and began to think about the newspaper article she had read that morning. 

*****

            Oliver, being a fairly fast writer was the first to finish copying the notes into his Herbology book. After he had done that, he began to twirl his pen between the fingers and toss it up into the air before catching it. Beside him, Cedric was still writing, his pen scratching across his paper. Every now and again, he looked up, squinted at the board and then went back to writing. In the end, he gave up on trying to read Professor Sprout's impossibly miniscule handwriting and instead, grabbed Oliver's paper and began to copy from that. The friendship between Cedric and Oliver was based largely on the fact that both were extremely competitive. At the same time their friendship was ironic as they were the Quidditch captains of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively. On the other side of Oliver, Darren was writing as well, his soft breathing barely audible in the greenhouse. Above them, he could see the sun shining in the sky; it was a perfect day for Quidditch. If only, he could convince his Chasers to practice. Although they were all very good, they did sometimes argue when he called for practice early in the morning. Girls!! Who could understand them? Almost immediately, the answer popped into his head: Cedric. There was no one quite so smooth as him, or as popular with the girls. His blue-gray eyes, curly blonde hair and toned body made him the prize catch. The number of girlfriends he had had in his seven years at Hogwarts was unaccounted for, and the number of hearts he had broken, even more numerous. But, Oliver on the other hand had never had a girl friend, despite being attractive and the captain of the Quidditch team. All the girls in Hogwarts knew that his sole passion was Quidditch. It was his wife, his mistress and his religion. He walked, talked and slept Quidditch. 

            Five minutes to the end of the lesson, Oliver got up from his seat, accompanied by Cedric, Darren and Jordan. He walked towards his Chasers and said, 'Umm…Angie, Katie, we have practice tomorrow at 6:30 in the morning. Could you tell Alicia that when you see her? I'll tell Fred, George and Harry. Ok?' At this, the two girls looked scandalized. In a plaintive voice, Katie said, 'But Oliver, it's barely the second day of school!' At this point, Angelina joined in, both trying desperately to get Oliver to reconsider. While all of this was going on, Alison had her back to them, her brown hair falling down to her shoulders in a series of steps. Then she turned around, a smile on her face and said, "Well, why can't you have the practice in the evening?' Despite himself, Oliver marveled at the perfection in her features. Her skin was a clear, chocolate brown and her eyes were a deep brown colour with tiny golden flecks in them. Her nose was straight, and perfectly proportionate to the rest of her features. Slightly distracted, he looked at Angelina, a look of bewilderment in his eyes. Angelina obviously mistook the expression for disappointment, and in a hurry, she agreed to go to practice in the morning and convinced the Katie to do the same. 

            During this time, Cedric had not been standing about idle. Like Oliver, he gazed at Alison's perfect features but unlike Oliver, he did plan on doing something about the unfamiliar feelings stirring in his chest. For, although he had had many a girlfriend, he had never been in love. He imagined stroking her hair, touching her lips with his, running his hand down her spine making her tremble. The very thought of her lying helpless in his arms made him shiver. 

*****

            As she looked at him, she thought, 'So this is Cedric…he's not too bad-looking, but certainly not my type.' With that, she turned her attention to Oliver who was looking quite lost, a look that the other two girls mistook for disappointment, thus changing their minds about not going to early morning practices. Just as Cedric was about to say something, the bell rang, and Alison gathered her books together before leaving. When Oliver asked why she was in such a hurry, Angelina explained that she had to go all the way to the Defense Against Dark Arts Room. 

             As Alison hurried away, her brown hair glinting in the sunlight, she still couldn't push the article out of her head. Sirius Black's face floated into her mind, like a ghostly apparition, his tangled black hair framing his hollow face, his dead eyes staring out of sunken sockets. But, unlike most of the wizard population, she didn't feel hatred for this man, she didn't even feel disgust. Instead, she felt pain, a pain so deep that it pierced more than her heart, it pierced her very soul. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the defense against dark arts classroom. She walked in and gasped, for in front of her was a man she had only seen in photographs, but never in the flesh.

            In front of her, looking tired and haggard, stood Remus Lupin. His clothes were shabby and his hair uncombed, but it was definitely him. He was rummaging through the contents of his suitcase, muttering in exasperation. Nervously, Alison cleared her throat, and Professor Lupin looked up. A smile broke out onto his face, erasing the lines under his eyes and making him look like the young man that he was. Softly he murmured, 'exactly like her mum!' but before he could explain what he meant, a group of kids from Ravenclaw trooped in, all chattering loudly and merrily. At the sight of Lupin, they fell into silence, their mouths gaping. For he had taught at Hogwarts before, for a year, before resigning due to fear of disapproving parents who resented the thought that their children were being taught by a werewolf.         

            Slowly, the group of Ravenclaws settled down in one corner of the classroom, and Alison feeling completely lost sat down in the back row at the opposite end of the classroom. She didn't think she wanted to intrude on their privacy being from Gryffindor. At that moment, Oliver walked in followed by a few other Gryffindor seventh year boys. Alicia was right; they _were_ cute, very cute!! Looking at her, he smiled his warm brown eyes twinkling and began to walk over to where she was sitting. Amusement sparkling in his eyes, he asked, "is anyone sitting here?" gesturing to the seat beside Alison. Still recovering from her shock at seeing Professor Lupin, she shook her head dumbly. Lowering his bag onto the floor, he slid into the seat next to her and pulled out his quill. Alison couldn't help but notice that his hands were strong and masculine, but clean at the same time. Almost instantly, she turned her head away lest Oliver should catch her staring. That might give him the wrong idea. She wasn't looking for a relationship, she was still sore from the previous time she opened her heart to someone. 

            Suddenly, she became aware of Professor Lupin clearing his throat at the front of the class. She looked up, and her puzzlement must have been mirrored in her eyes for he said, "Most of you know me, and for those of you that don't, I'm Professor Lupin. Before we start, I would like to avoid any confusion or misconceptions by saying that I am a werewolf. But, as Professor Snape has kindly agreed to make the Wolfbane potion for me at every new moon, I assure you that I am perfectly safe. Unless, you forget your homework, that is. If you do that, I'll sprout fangs and fur and howl at you till you beg for mercy!" At this, the whole class laughed, lightening the uncomfortable atmosphere in the classroom. Having thus broken the ice, he proceeded to teach them about the different types of curses. Unforgivable curses, they had already studied, and then there were the less dangerous curses. After giving them a brief description of each type, he began to give them notes. Half an hour later when the bell went, Oliver and Alison swept up their books and headed out of the classroom for the Great Hall for lunch. As she was about to step out of the classroom, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to see Professor Lupin standing behind her with a sad smile on his face. In a soft voice he told her to meet him in the classroom during lunch. Alison nodded once, her heart pounding in her chest. Then she turned around to go to the Great Hall to see Oliver standing there waiting for her. She smiled at him and he said, 'what was all that about?' In response she just shrugged her shoulders and pasted a puzzled look on her face. But she did know, at least she thought she knew what Lupin wanted to talk to her about. Either way, she would find out that afternoon. 

            As they entered the Hall, Alison scanned the Gryffindor table for Angelina, Katie and Alicia, and she saw them sitting at the far end of the table. Next to them were two empty seats. She headed for the empty seats, followed closely by Oliver. As she walked past the other tables, boys' heads turned, their mouths gaped and girls scowled. Oblivious to all of this, Alison sat down next to Katie. The three girls turned to her and asked her how the lesson was so Alison filled them in on what they had missed, which she insisted really wasn't much. She was about to say something when Fred, George, Lee, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked and sat down opposite them. Katie smiled foolishly at Fred who grinned back and sat down opposite her. Further down the table, Angelina and Alicia did the same thing to Lee and George respectively. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down opposite Alison and Oliver. Realising that her three friends were too involved with their 'boyfriends' to pay any attention to her, she smiled at Hermione. Hermione smiled back and asked, 'are you really in all the Extended classes?' at this Harry and Ron looked up and stared at her. Chuckling, Alison said, 'yeah, I am, but it's really no big deal!' then, sneaking a sideward glance at Oliver, she added, 'the seventh years are really a big bunch of brutes anyway…'Oliver exclaimed, 'Hey! What'd you mean? I'm not stupid!!' Giggling, Alison remarked, 'you said it, not me! If you think you're stupid, that's really not my problem…' All of a sudden, she felt a leg rubbing against hers and she stopped talking. Oliver looked at her and said, 'what, cat got your tongue?', but Alison didn't reply, instead she ducked under the table amid gales of laughter from Ron, Hermione and Harry. She saw a leg stretching out from under black robes with only socks on, and followed the leg to…

            'FRED!! What on earth do you think you're doing??' And under the table, his toes wiggled and he said, in a tone that suggested that he wished he could disappear right then, 'I thought you were Katie!' his face going as red as his flaming hair. If Harry, Ron and Hermione were laughing before, they were roaring with laughter now, Ron banging the table with his fist, tears rolling down his cheeks. Harry and Hermione were both shaking with mirth, Harry so hard that his glasses had slipped off his nose and fallen onto the ground. Oliver was almost rolling on the ground with laughter as were the rest of the Gryffindors who realized what had happened. Even Katie was laughing. After about ten minutes, when the laughter had died down, George had only to say, 'hey, Fred, you feelin the urge to rub someone's leg?' to set them all off again. Never had Alison laughed so hard before, her cheeks ached, and her stomach hurt from the strain. 

            During lunch, Alicia couldn't keep from commenting on the unusually large number of boys who kept passing by the Gryffindor table on their way out of the Hall, only to come back in a few seconds later. She winked at Angelina and Katie and then said in a loud voice, "I wonder why all these guys keep walking past? What are they looking at anyway?' Alison heard her and looked almost as puzzled as the rest of the Gryffindors. After lunch, she pushed her chair back to get up, and when Katie asked her where she was going and if she wanted someone to go with her, she responded that she was just going to the common room to get some of her stuff. But from the way Oliver looked at her, Alison could tell that he didn't believe her, and that he could see right through all of her defenses. She picked up her bag and hurried out of the Hall and almost immediately the vast crowd flowing past the Gryffindor table ceased, another point shrewdly picked up by Alicia. 

            Oliver leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling bewitched to look like the sky outside. He tried to think of Quidditch, but instead, all he could think about was Alison's perfect face, her ringing laugh, her glossy hair shimmering in the light, framing her slender face. Try as he might, he couldn't push her face out of his head, even though he knew he didn't stand a chance with her. Even he wasn't thick enough not to realize why so many guys had been streaming past the table. And with so many guys to choose from, why would she pick him? No, he would just be a friend, maybe even a good friend, but never a boyfriend. He was jolted back to reality by a rude voice near his elbow. He turned around to see Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team standing behind him, a smirk on his evil face. 'Funny, wood, I would've thought you'd be practicing like crazy! You're going to need every second of it, if you're going to even make a bid for the Quidditch cup. All these years, you've been saved from embarrassment by the circumstances, but not this year. This year, we're going to give you the pasting you've been asking for all these years.' Oliver's face contorted with fury as he struggled to keep himself from doing what he most wanted to do, punch Flint square on the nose and keep punching till he bled and pleaded for mercy on bet knees. In an even voice, he said simply, 'why don't you put your team where your mouth is.'  With that he got up and walked out of the Hall.

*****

            Alison stood outside the door of Professor Lupin's classroom, her ears strained for anything that might suggest that he was busy and cause her to come back at a later stage. But she could hear nothing beyond the think wooden door. Tentatively, she knocked, softly at fist and then louder, when no one answered the door. She was about to knock for the last time when the door opened and Professor Lupin stood in the doorway, the same sad smile etched onto his face. 'Come in', he said, in a soft voice and she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Once inside, she followed him to his desk where he told her to take a seat. Calmly, he said, 'I think you know why I called you here. You do know, don't you?' although she had told Oliver that she had no idea what he wanted to talk to her about, she did know! She said in a low whisper, 'you want to talk to me about my parents.' At this, Professor Lupin smiled, 'I'm not sure how much you know, so I'm going to tell you the whole story. Pardon me if I am but reinforcing what you are already aware of. Your father, Harry's father, James and I went to school together. We were friends; in fact, we were as close as friends could get. We did everything together, even after we left school. Your father met your mother in his last year. She, too, transferred from South Africa. Her name was Stephanie. Your father fell in love with her and was going to get married to her after she had the baby she was carrying, his baby. That baby was you. But after you were born, something terrible happened. Your parents had a fight and I regret to say that the fight was about me. You see, your father knew someone very close to us had been relaying information about the whereabouts of James and Lily to Voldemort. He though it was I who had turned traitor, but your mother didn't agree, she thought it was Peter. As it turned out, she was right. But this argument split your parents. Your mother moved back to South Africa with you and your father stayed here, to help protect James and Lily and their newly born baby, Harry. By that time, you were two and a half years old. Then a year later, Voldemort killed the Potters and only Harry survived. The next day, your father was convicted of murdering twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew. And I'm ashamed to say I believed the conviction. I believed your father was responsible for their deaths. But last year, we realized how wrong we were, that your father was innocent.' At this, his voice cracked and Alison saw that his eyes were wet with tears. 'Since then, we've been trying to track you down, but your mother was definitely one of the smartest witches to pass through Hogwarts. She certainly did make the task difficult before she died. But we found you and that's what's important. And what I didn't do for your father, I swear I will do for you. I don't know if anyone told you, but James and I are your godfathers.' Slowly, he raised his head, looked straight into Alison's eyes and said in a whisper so soft she could barely hear him, 'But I meant what I said in class. You do look like your mother. Exactly like her. Except for your eyes. They're like endless coal mines, the deeper you go, the blacker they get. But the black is not cold. On the contrary, it's like a veil, a warm shroud that comforts anyone who looks deep enough to see it. I would recognize those eyes anywhere and with that recognition, I would know you, your origins. And so would anyone else who has ever had the chance to look deep into the eyes of Sirius Black.' 

*****

            When Alison reached Hagrid's cottage, she realized that she was the first one there. As she stood indecisively outside Hagrid's small cabin contemplating knocking on the door to announce her presence, the door crashed open and Hagrid came out, a wide grin on his face. She hadn't seen him since the previous day when he had met her after the long train journey from King's Cross to Hogwarts.  He had a huge wooden box under his arm, which, every few seconds, seemed to wiggle. Or perhaps, it was just Hagrid trying to keep it under his arm. When he saw her, he bellowed, 'all righ', Alison? Likin Hogwarts, eh? But what are ye doing 'ere? I 'ave me seventh years now. You're in sixth year, aint ya? Not tha' I'm not pleased to see ya!' Alison chuckled under her breath and said, 'Well, yeah, but I'm in the extended class for Care of Magical Creatures.' 

'Oh, are ye, now? Like animals, do ye? That's good!'

'So what are we doing today?'

'Ah, ye'll find out when the rest do. No preferential treatment, that's me rule! Would ye like a cup o' tea? Come on in, then!' With that, he lowered the crate onto the damp ground near his pumpkin patch, and then beckoned to Alison to enter his cabin. Inside the cabin, it was stiflingly hot and Alison's black robe seemed perfectly designed to absorb all the heat it could. She could think of nothing more alluring than loosening her tie a bit. But she couldn't do that! It had taken her ages to tie it in the morning! It was one of the few things that she really could not do well, however hard she tried. 

            Pulling up a chair, she sat down at the roughly hewn table in the center of the cabin and watched as Hagrid poured her a cup of steaming tea. Placing it in front of her, he opened a small cupboard in the corner and took out a tin of biscuits, which he proceeded to offer her. She was about to take a bit from one, when, suddenly, the door shuddered with the impact of a huge animal hurling itself against it. Alison sprang up, her wand drawn, her face set and her eyes narrowed. Looking at her in surprise, Hagrid said, 'it's alrigh'! It's only me dog, Fang.' And with that, he opened the door and a huge black boarhound, saliva dripping from its open jowls, charged into the room with the force of a small elephant, barking ferociously. It headed straight for Alison. But surprisingly, Alison didn't scream or even back away. Instead, she lowered her wand and placed her hand on Fang's head. In a soft voice, she said, 'Down, boy, down!' and almost instantly, Fang stopped barking. Hagrid looked at Alison, a look of utter shock on his ruddy face, and said, 'he's never done tha' before!' Before Alison could reply, they heard voices outside. Startled, Hagrid looked at his watch, and realized that it was time for the lesson to begin. He opened the door and walked out into the bright sunlight. He was closely followed by Alison. 

            Ten minutes later, the whole class was assembled near the pumpkin patch outside Hagrid's cabin. Alison stood next to Angelina, both listening to what Hagrid had to say about Fire breathing Salamanders. Their project for the rest of that month would be to take care of the salamanders. At the end of the month, each group would have to give an individual report on what they had found out. When he had finished talking, all the students went towards the crate to get a salamander. Hagrid had said that there could only be a maximum of three to each group, so Angelina and Alison needed to find another member. Oliver was working with Darren and a boy called Stuart from Ravenclaw. They had already got their salamander, which turned out to be a brilliant orange creature with fiery yellow stripes down the length of its back. As Alison looked around for anyone who didn't seem to have a person to work with, a voice behind her said, 'Hey Angie! Have a good hols?' Alison and Angelina turned around to see a pretty girl with shoulder length black hair and glowing skin. Angelina beamed at the girl and said, 'Hey Cho! Yeah, I had a great holiday! You?', to which Cho replied in the affirmative. Then she turned to Alison and said, ' hey, you must be Alison, I've heard about you!' Unsure whether to take this as a compliment or an insult, Alison smiles in a bemused sort of way and said, 'Should I be worried?' At this, all three of them burst out laughing and made their way toward Hagrid to get their salamander. 

*****

            On the other side of the pumpkin patch, Oliver was trying to poke a piece of lettuce down the salamander's throat, cheered on by Darren and Stuart. When Oliver managed to force the lettuce down its throat eventually, the salamander goggled at him out of its bright blue eyes for a few seconds and then coughed up the lettuce again, only now it was covered in a vile smelling, viscous orange liquid. What made it worse was the fact that it coughed the lettuce onto Oliver's hand, before bolting like a snake into the pumpkin patch. Recovering instantly, Oliver took off after the salamander, followed closely by Darren and Stuart. Realising that he would not be able to catch it once it reached the pumpkin patch, he made a last despairing dive in an attempt to catch hold of its tail. But instead, he landed face first in the mud. When he looked up, it was only to see the whole of the class bent over double, laughing and one girl even had tears streaming down the sides of her face. Darren helped him up and Oliver tried in vain to get the mud and salamander gook off himself. When everyone had gone back to their own salamanders, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Alison standing there with the salamander in her hands. The cheeky thing just sat there, without attempting to move. It seemed quite content too. In a soft voice, she said, 'I believe you're looking for this.'  His face burning, he took the salamander from her, mumbled his gratitude and then went back to his friends who were standing a few paces behind, smirking openly at him. 

            Just then they heard the bell ring in the distance, and Darren picked up the salamander and took him over to Hagrid to put it in the crate. As Oliver stood beside Stuart waiting for Darren to join them before heading back to the castle, Stuart said, 'you are one lucky son of a gun, you know that? I would give anything to have that girl touch my shoulder. She is fine!! I didn't know a girl could look that good in a shapeless, black robe.' Oliver just stared at him, speechless, his mouth open. Luckily for him, Darren joined them at that moment and they walked back to the castle in silence. Oliver thought to himself, 'What is it with this girl? She isn't all that pretty. She probably wears a lot of makeup! Why do all the guys have the hots for her?' But in his heart, he knew that she was more than just pretty, she was drop dead gorgeous. And although he didn't want to admit it, he could tell that she didn't wear a trace of makeup and that her beauty was completely natural. 

*****

            Alison walked back to the castle with Cho and Angelina, all three of them laughing about Oliver's attempt to catch the salamander. They were walking into the wind and their hair billowed behind them. The topic turned to what Fred had done that morning causing more bouts of laughter as Alison described in detail the look on Fred's face when he realized she wasn't Alicia. When the laughter had died down, Cho turned towards Alison and said, 'So, have you seen anyone who catches your fancy?' at this Alison stopped laughing and said in a very serious tone, 'yeah, actually, I think Lee is just so cute!' Angelina gasped and said, 'You bitch!' and then she saw the sides of Alison's mouth twitching and realized that she's been pulling her leg. Threateningly she advanced on Alison and Cho, who backed away slowly, shrieking with laughter. As Angelina raised her bag to smack one of them, they both turned and ran towards the castle with Angelina close behind. When they finally reached the castle, they leaned against the wall, panting and laughing. Slowly, they made their way inside the castle where Angelina and Alison parted ways with Cho. 

Five minutes later, they entered the Muggle Studies classroom, to find that most of the people were there already. Angelina slipped into the seat next to Alicia. Alison looked around for another empty seat and saw one, right next to Oliver. She smiled at him and said, 'Anyone sitting here?' when he shook his head, she tossed her bag onto the dusty floor and sank into the seat. She saw that Oliver had managed to get most of the mud and Salamander juice off himself. Spotting a bit of mud on his lips, she stretched out her hand and wiped it off. As her hand brushed against his lip, she felt a desire begin to burn within her heart. Looking at his face, she whispered, 'you missed a spot.'  Had Professor Agallant not started talking, she would not have been able to resist the urge to kiss him, square on the lips. As it was, he did start talking and Alison withdrew her hand and looked at the Professor. He was a tall, tanned man, with deep blue eyes and dark blonde hair. He announced to the class, 'We have a choice as to which aspect of Muggle Life we are going to study this term, a choice between Muggle Sports and Muggle Music.' At this announcement, the class burst into applause with some scattered whistling and whoops. Alison turned to Oliver and said, 'I'll bet I can guess which one you would like to learn about.' At this Oliver grinned and said, 'it's pretty obvious what I would like to do, but what about you?' Alison replied, 'I'm not completely sure. I really like both. I love sport, but I also love music.' Before she could say anything more, professor Agallant waved his hands for silence and said, 'we are going to have a vote. And in the unlikely event of a tie, we will do both, but then it will last for the whole year. So all in favour of Muggle Sport, raise your hands.' Alison raised her hand as well, but she was the only girl to do so. 

'Ok, so that's nine in favour of Muggle Sports and I'm guessing that the other nine are in favour of the music. So, it's decided, we'll do both!' With this decision, the whole class let out a cheer, only this time Oliver and Alison joined in too! 

            When the cheering died down, Professor Agallant said, 'We are going to watch a video. I know that generally, electricity does not work around Hogwarts. But let us just say that there are certain charms that allow electricity to work. This video is going to be on a particular Muggle sport. Before we start watching, can anyone name a few Muggle sports?' A few hands shot into the air including Angelina's, Alicia's and Oliver's. The professor pointed to a girl from Hufflepuff first and the girl said, 'Tennis.' As he went around the class pointing to the people with their hands raised, other sports such as rugby, soccer, golf and basketball were named.  Finally professor Agallant said, 'you've got almost all of them, but you're missing out one that is very important especially here in the United Kingdom. Does anyone know what it is?' slowly Alison raised her hand and said, in a clear voice, 'Cricket.' At this, the professor's face broke into a wide beam and he said, 'ah, yes, of course you would know that one; you are South African after all!' Alison blushed and looked down as the professor continued to talk, 'Cricket is a personal favourite of mine. As is tennis. And hopefully we will be able to have some practical lessons as well. But now, we are going to watch a video on tennis, perhaps one of the most exciting tennis matches ever and as we go along, I will explain the rules. The match is between Marat Safin of Russia and Lleyton Hewitt of Australia. It was played just a year ago and it was absolutely nail biting. Oliver, could you please draw the curtains… Thank you.'

When the bell rang for the end of the lesson an hour later, no one wanted to leave. Reluctantly, Professor Agallant turned off the video and drew the curtains. As they all walked out of the classroom, he said, 'and for homework, I would like all of you to research tennis. Next week, I will be asking about the rules and everyone should know them. Next lesson, however, we will be doing music.' 

As Alison walked out of the classroom, Oliver on one side of her and Angelina on the other side of her, she was going over her classes that day in an attempt to try to remember if she had any homework from other classes. As it was, reading up on tennis was hardly homework; she knew all the rules of tennis already. After all, she had won the junior tennis championship in Cape Town. As she was trying to remember if she had any other homework, she felt someone bump into her from the back. She turned around to see Cedric smiling at her and in a soft voice he said, 'I'm sorry.' Before turning away, she assured him that it was all right. As she turned back, she caught Angelina smirking and before she could ask why, she realized that she had left her pen in the Muggle Studies classroom. Turning to Angelina, she said, 'Go on ahead, I'll be right there. I just have to go and get my pen. I left it in class.' As she walked back to the classroom, she heard a voice behind her saying, 'Hold on, I'll come too. Wouldn't want you to get lost, now would I?' she turned around to see Cedric walking towards her, his blue eyes sparkling. Together they walked back to the class, where Alison proceeded to look for her pen. When she couldn't find it, she got back up and told Cedric so, to which he replied, oh, is that what you're looking for? Yeah, well, obviously you're not going to find it on the ground, it's in my pocket!' and he took it out of his pocket and waved it annoyingly in front of her face. Alison glared at him and seeing the glare, he stopped waving it in front of her face and gave it back to her.  As they walked out of the class, Cedric asked, 'So, do you like Quidditch?' Alison looked at him, smiled and said, 'No, actually, I don't. I mean, I like watching it, but I can't play Quidditch, I'm scared of heights.' At this, Cedric looked at her, his gorgeous blue eyes wide with astonishment. 'Really? That's a pity, cuz it's a really great game!' by this time, Alison had reached the point where she had to turn right to reach the Gryffindor common room, and Cedric had to go left. Turning to her, he said, 'well, bye then, see you at dinner.' And before he left, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. She froze, and five minutes later, she was still standing there. Then she came to her senses and thought, 'Oh, no! Not again! Not here! Not now!' and with that she raced to the common room. When she reached the fat lady's picture, she panted out the password 'Perfidious Tantalus' and then climbed through the portrait hole.  

*****

As he watched Cedric and Alison walk off together, his heart sank. He knew that once Cedric wanted a girl, he always got her, no matter who she was. He had some sort of talent with them, he seemed to say and do the right things at the right times. And he'd had a lot of practice. And practice makes perfect, as they say. And he, Oliver had had anything but practice. He was 17 and he had never kissed a girl. He was probably the only boy in the whole of seventh year who would be able to make this claim. Not that he was proud of it. It was just that till now, no girl had ever caught his eye. He had been happy in his own little world, with no girl to worry about, nothing to worry about except Quidditch. And then along comes Miss Alison, with her gorgeous chocolate brown eyes, her full lips, and her long luscious lashes and all of a sudden, he was acting like another one of those poor lovesick sods whom he used to pity. As he walked to the common room, he made a promise to himself that he would stop thinking about her, that they would be just friends, that he would make sure that she didn't get hurt. But that afternoon in class, when she brushed the mud off his lips, as her fingers brushed against his skin, he felt a shiver of anticipation run down his back. For a brief moment, he had thought she was going to kiss him, but then she pulled away. After all, why would she kiss him, when there were guys like Cedric who wanted to go out with her? Hanging his head, he climbed through the portrait hole, trying not to imagine what Alison was doing with Cedric at that moment. 

*****

            When Alison climbed through the portrait hole, she saw Angelina, Alicia and Katie sitting around the fire, doing their homework. She walked over to them and plunked into the armchair beside them. They looked up in surprise at her depressed face. When Alison told them what had happened, they looked confused as to why she was upset. Alicia looked at Alison as though she had dropped off another planet and asked, 'so you're upset because the cutest guy in year 7 kissed you? Right! That certainly makes sense!' When they tried to persuade her to explain, she just said, 'I've not had the best of experiences with guys,' and refused to elaborate. Resignedly, she pulled her book out of her bag and began to write an essay about tennis, the rules, the most important tournaments and some of the best tennis players. Alicia and Angelina looked over her shoulder in amazement as her quill scraped across the parchment. In less than an hour, she had finished an entire role and just managed to squeeze the whole essay into it. Rolling up the parchment, she grinned at their amazed faces and shrugged nonchalantly, 'Hey, I work fast, ok?' Chuckling, Alicia responded, 'that's a bit of an understatement!!' At that moment, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked in followed by George, Fred and Lee. Almost immediately, the three girls' faces lit up. George, Fred and Lee made their way towards where they were sitting and squeezed into their respective girlfriends' chairs. 

Realising that there was no real point to sitting there any longer as her friends were too absorbed in talking to their boyfriends than to listen to her, she got up and walked towards the stairs leading to the dormitory. She was about to climb the stairs when she heard Oliver calling her. She turned around and walked over to where he was sitting. Looking sheepish, he asked in a small voice if she could possibly explain the rules of tennis to him. Chuckling to herself, she sat down in the armchair next to him and began to explain. From tennis, they moved to tennis tournaments to tournaments that Alison had played in, to other sports. They talked for hours and were oblivious to the rapidly emptying common room. Oliver told her about his family and Alison told him about her life in South Africa. She told him how she had to live in a home for orphans. When she said the word 'orphans', she felt a twinge deep in her heart but ignored it. As the fire in the grate burned low and the shadows grew longer, they continued to talk. The fire went out but they barely noticed for the rays of the sun were creeping through the windows. Looking up, Alison realized for the first time that the room was empty, that the night was past and brand new day had begun. Oliver stood up, dislodging Alison who during the course of the night had moved from her armchair to sit on the arm of his. Stretching his arms towards the ceiling and yawning, he said, 'well that certainly was a short night!' Alison chuckled and looked at her watch, which read 6:05. Looking up, she said, 'I have to go change for my jog.'  He looked up in surprise and asked, 'you go for a jog every morning?' to which she replied in the affirmative. Then she added, 'Do you want to come too?' leaning against the armrest, he mumbled incomprehensively about a Quidditch practice that was due to start in half an hour. Shrugging, Alison assured him that it didn't matter and that as she was going upstairs anyways, she would wake up Angelina, Katie and Alicia. 

When she entered the dormitory, all three of them were fast asleep, and one of them was snoring softly. She tiptoed to her bed at the end of the room and groped around for her shorts and polo shirt. When she found it, she quickly pulled them on and then collapsed onto her bed to tie her shoelaces. When she was done, she walked towards the door and on the way out, pulled the bedcovers off all three of them. She was about to leave the common room when Oliver came down the stairs that led to the boy's dorms. He had changed into a navy blue sweater and a pair of jeans. He looked as fresh as a summer breeze. When he saw her, he burst out laughing. Annoyed, Alison asked him what the huge joke was, but he couldn't answer; he was too busy laughing. He was almost bent over double and between laughs, he managed to wheeze 'your shirt' before going into another fit of hysterics. Alison looked down at her shirt to find that not only had she worn it inside out, but also front to back. What was more, she looked down to see that her socks didn't match. Thanking her stars she wasn't fair, she looked at him, a snooty look on her face and said, 'that's the latest fashion, you old fogie!' before stalking out of the common room, leaving Oliver behind still laughing his head off.

As she jogged towards the Quidditch field, she began to think about Oliver. Her thoughts drifted from the things he had told her that night to the way his warm brown eyes twinkled when he laughed. Suddenly, she shook her head and silently reprimanded herself. She had promised herself when she stepped onto Platform 9and three quarters that she would not fall in love. It wasn't worth it. No boy was worth the amount of pain love brought. Besides, she couldn't get close to anyone; she was the daughter of a murderer. She couldn't possibly go out with a boy and expect him to accept the fact that his girlfriend's father was a fugitive. Her father's face drifted into her mind. He was another reason she was afraid to open herself to anyone. She still remembered him from way back, how he used to toss her in the air and then catch her. How he used to sing songs to her, and rock her in his arms until she fell asleep. She could still hear his deep voice humming the tune of the song 'Hotel California' as he held her in his arms below the stars in the deep black Durban sky.  His face was replaced like her mother's. She felt gratified when people told her she looked like her mother. Her mother was one of the most gorgeous women on earth. When she walked, the whole world stopped to watch. When she sang, the whole world stopped to listen. When she laughed, the whole world stopped to admire the clear sound of her laughter like the tinkling of water in a mountain stream. But when she died, the whole world moved on.  Her face clouded over as she remembered how little people noticed her mother's absence from their midst. Grimacing, she continued to jog, forcing these thought out of her mind, replacing them with thoughts of how beautiful the sunrise was.

When the team walked out onto the pitch, they saw Alison racing around the perimeter. When she neared them, Alicia looked at her in amazement and said, 'what are you exercising for? You're as perfect as they get.' Chuckling, Alison replied, ' No, I'm not. I'm only perfect when guys fall all over themselves for me and as that hasn't happened yet, I can't be perfect!' with that she jogged out of the stadium and Alicia stared after her retreating back in amazement. 

            A few minutes after Alison left the common room, the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team joined Oliver Wood. As they rubbed the sleep from their eyes, and pulled on their shoes, Oliver paced up and down the length of the common room. Fred and George looked at each other, and rolled their eyes. They knew exactly what Oliver was doing; he was working himself up to the start of term pep talk, the pep talk that he gave them at the start of every Quidditch season. As he rumbled on for what seemed to the rest of the team to be hours, George's head drooped onto Fred's shoulders and Harry's eyes began to close. In fifteen minutes, the whole team had sunk into a stupor while Oliver droned on and on about various tactics he had devised during the summer. It was only when his lecture was interrupted by a loud snore from George that he stopped. As he surveyed his team, he realized that most of them had probably not heard more than a few words of what he had said. Picking up his broom, he headed to the portrait hole, leisurely followed by the rest of the team. When they finally reached the Quidditch pitch, he saw the slender figure of Alison sprinting around the perimeter. His breath caught in his throat as she came closer and he could see her face. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed. As she neared them, she slowed down to a jog and chuckled when Alicia asked her, in an incredulous voice what the purpose of the exercise was as she was already perfect. Oliver didn't hear the answer, he was wondering to himself how he could have possibly spent the night with her and not have done anything. If Cedric or Darren found out, he would never hear the end of it. As it was, he was Mr. Nice Guy, the guy who girls talked to but never fell for. If they found out that he had spent the whole night with Alison but had not gotten any closer to asking her out, he would never have a moment's peace again. 

            When she left, he gave the team some last minute instructions and then kicked off from the ground. As he soared through the air, the wind rushing through his hair, all thoughts of Alison were pushed from his mind…for a few seconds, before they came hurrying back. As he looped the goalposts all he could think of was Alison's smile, Alison's laugh, Alison sitting on the arm of his sofa, the warmth from her body radiating towards his. 

The rest of the team watched in amazement as Oliver missed a simple goal. As they flew past, Fred and George stared in puzzlement at him. By the end of the practice, the whole team had realized that Oliver's mind wasn't in practice today. As they all walked towards the changing rooms for a quick shower and to change into their robes for class, the three girls whispered amongst themselves and then suddenly they burst out laughing, and looked at Oliver. Oliver could feel his ears burning, and he knew that his face was turning scarlet. They couldn't possibly know what he was feeling, could they? And why was he feeling this way? He was Oliver Wood, he didn't like girls, he liked Quidditch!!

When he got to the Great Hall, everyone else was nearly finished with breakfast. He saw Alison at the far end of the table near Alicia, Angelina and Katie. His heart sank when he saw whom she was talking to. Cedric was standing very close to her chair, his blonde hair glinting as it caught the sunlight, his blue gray eyes sparkling as he told her what must have been a hilarious joke from the way the two of them were laughing. Noticing the empty seat near her, he walked towards it purposefully. When he had almost reached the seat, Cedric sat down in it. Oliver was about to turn away, when he heard Alison saying, 'you're gonna have to get up when Oliver gets here…oh, here he is! That was an awfully long bath…for a boy anyways!' oh, and this letter came for you, you weren't hear so your owl dropped it near me, pretty smart owl, huh' As Oliver sat down, he gave Cedric a watery smile, which was met by a sly wink from Cedric. Grimacing, Oliver poured himself some orange juice. He heard Alison say, 'Well, I'll see you later Cedric' and as he turned around to do the same, He saw Cedric kiss Alison lightly on the cheek. His heart sank somewhere near his toes and with a forced smile, he, too, said goodbye to Cedric. He shoveled his cornflakes into his mouth watched in astonishment by Alison. In a voice that didn't quite conceal her worry at his weird behaviour, she asked, 'you're acting dead strange! What the hell is wrong?? Are you mad at me or something, cuz you seemed fine last night.' Oliver looked into her eyes and saw the worry in them. Smiling, he said, 'No, nothing's the matter…I was just feeling a little out of sorts for a while, that's all. Now, I'm fine though.' Alison looked at him rather skeptically and was about to say something when Alicia, Angelina and Katie got up. Alicia turned to her and asked if she was coming with them to class. Alison shook her head and said, 'No, I'll wait for Oliver. Besides, I've got Potions next.' Nodding, the three of them walked out of the Hall. By this time, Oliver had finished his cornflakes and was working his way steadily through a pile of buttered toast. As he munched on the toast, Alison looked around the Hall and suddenly asked, 'Who do we have Potions with?' At this, Oliver answered, his mouth full of toast, 'Dam' roffen Slyfferins!' He swallowed the toast and repeated himself.  

Oliver was about finished with breakfast when he heard the most unwelcome voice in the world, the voice of Marcus Flint. Oliver turned around, his jaw set, ready for a fight. With Marcus stood his cronies, Palter and Gneiss. His arms crossed, Marcus sneered, 'Well, well, well, it looks like lil' Woodsie's finally found himself a girlfriend. I hope you know girlie, the only thing's he's ever ridden is a broom.' He burst out laughing but before Oliver could retort, Alison stood up, her eyes flashing menacingly, and said, 'At least he can ride a broom…last time I checked you couldn't even do that!' and with that, she stalked out of the Hall dragging Oliver with her. Fuming, she dragged him all the way to the Potions class. Inwardly, Oliver thought, 'Jesus, that bugger really asked for it!'

When she got to the dungeon where the Potions classes were held, she pushed open the door and walked in. the class was empty except for them. She headed straight for the bench right at the back and tossed her bag onto the slimy floor. Then she sat down, and Oliver took the seat next to her. Slowly, the class began to fill up. As a boy sat down beside Oliver, he smiled at him. Surprised, Oliver smiled back wondering why on earth Thomas, the smartest boy in the class, wanted to sit next to him. However when Thomas leaned over him to ask Alison if he could borrow a pen, the reason dawned on Oliver, Thomas liked her too. 

Just then, Flint sauntered in, glanced around and then headed straight for them. In a voice dripping honey, he said, 'Pardon me madam, but this is where we sit,' and at this he gestured to Palter, Gneiss and another boy with hooded eyelids, 'this is where we sit. So could you move? And you, too, Woodsie darling.' Alison replied, using a tone so similar, it sounded mocking, 'Sorry Flintstone, but unless you can show me your name on the bench, I wouldn't waste my time trying to persuade me to move. I'd get my sorry ass onto an empty seat and not ask to get it kicked. Comprendez? Or need I let my fists do the talking?' All of this was delivered in a whisper, one so deadly it sounded like the hiss of a snake. Oliver looked at her and saw her fists clenched and a nerve in her temple working furiously. The toned muscles in her tanned arms had gone rigid and tight. They looked more than capable of taking out Flint and anyone else who asked her to move. Before Flint could reply, Snape burst into the classroom, his black cloak flying behind him as he walked to the head of the class. He looked around the class and gestured for Flint and the rest of his cronies to be seated. Glaring at Alison, he sat down on the seat in front of her and Oliver. His cronies followed suit. 

Snape then began to talk. He didn't raise his voice. But his low voice was as chilling as a draught of cold breeze in winter. He said, 'well, well, for most of you this is your last year. In fact, it is your last year for all but one of you. But I hope that one person', and he looked right at Alison, 'I hope that one person does not think she can play the fool. Because no one plays the fool in my class and gets away with it. She will be taking the exams with the rest of you at the end of this year. Speaking of the exams, do not think they will be easy. They will not. They will be hard. And I do not intend for any of you to fail however useless you are in class, which many of you are. So do not be surprised if I give you a lot of homework, for I will. I will work you till you beg and plead for a rest. But I will not give in. I will keep working you till you drop. And do not think that you can get away with not doing your assignments. I do not care if you were ill, you will find out the homework and do it. I will expect the assignments off every single child present in the class the day it is due. And if you do not hand it in, whatever the reason, you can expect at least a week of after school detention. Now, are there any foolish questions you would like to ask before we begin? No? Good!'

As he turned around to write on the board, Alison turned to Oliver and whispered, 'Jesus, is he always that fucking mean?' Chuckling, Oliver replied, 'yeah, he is! He's always that fucking mean! Especially if you're in Gryffindor.' Snorting, Alison turned away to look for an extra quill in her bag, when something hit her on the head before falling to the floor. It was a rolled up bit of parchment. She looked up to make sure no one was looking, and then picked it up. Nudging Oliver, she showed it to him. Slowly he opened it, with her looking over his shoulder. It said, in smudged ink, _'you made a big mistake talking back to me bitch! And I'll hurt you like you've never been hurt before.' _It wasn't signed, but instantly, Alison knew whom it was from. She looked up to see Marcus Flint glaring vehemently at her, a mad gleam in his cold eyes.

An hour, and many deductions of points from Gryffindor later, the bell rang, and Snape's voice was drowned by an uproar of packing and scraping chairs. Oliver and Alison were two of the first to leave the class. Alison had had more than enough of Snape's taunts that she was goofing off in class and Flint's spiteful glances. As they trooped to the DADA classroom, Alison felt someone shoulder roughly past her and turned to see who it was. Yet again, she saw Flint's unpleasant face and heard his voice whisper, 'Think about what I said, or you'll be sorry,' before he disappeared around the corner. Alison glared after his retreating back and was startled from her own little world where she could kill Flint everyday and still get away with it, a place where she used his head for a punching bag, by Oliver's warm hand on her shoulder. Looking up at his handsome face, she felt the stirrings of desire deep within her soul. All her anger was replaced instantaneously by gratitude, gratitude that he was her friend, gratitude that she had such an understanding friend. 

They walked into the classroom talking about all sorts of things from school lunches to the look on Snape's face when Alison had given him the right answer to a question he said was worth 200 points. Professor Lupin stood by the door, a warm smile lighting his young face. The usual lines of worry had vanished and the difference that their absence made to his appearance was startling. He looked about ten years younger. Oliver and Alison sat down in the same seats as before. Alicia and Angelina walked in and headed for their table, wide smiles on their faces. Alison wondered what the reason behind their happiness was and then realized that their previous lesson had been Divination with Fred, George and Lee. Alicia was wearing an exotic scarf around her neck, and as she shifted her weight, Alison thought she saw something sore and red underneath, something that looked suspiciously like a hickey!

Alison leaned over to brush a strand of hair off Alicia's face and with one swift movement, Alison grabbed the scarf from her neck. And sure enough, she did have a hickey. Oliver stared at it before looking down at his shoes to keep Alicia from seeing his laughter. His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Alicia turned scarlet and Alison burst out laughing. Looking up, Oliver began to laugh too, followed hesitantly by Angelina. Everyone stared at the four of them, but they couldn't help themselves. Alison clutched Oliver's shoulders in an attempt to stop laughing. Tears poured down Angelina's face. All the while Alicia was getting redder and redder. Her whole face now looked like a ripe tomato. Between splutters, Oliver managed to choke out, 'George been busy, has he?' before dissolving into spasms of laughter all over again. Finally Alicia walked away in a huff followed by Angelina who was trying in vain to control her laughter. 

For the next hour, the class worked on an exercise from their textbooks in silence. Well, mostly in silence. Alison and Oliver kept bursting into audible fits of laughter, their shoulders shaking, their chests heaving. If it wasn't about Alicia, it was because of a pen fight that one of them had lost or a silly mistake either had made in the exercise. Despite all the laughing, they were the first to finish. Then they just sat around doodling. Oliver began to draw Quidditch tactics in the corner of his page and was soon engrossed with it. Looking over his shoulder, Alison was impressed. She had never seen anyone come up with so many ideas spontaneously. As she waited for the bell to ring, she sank into a silent reverie of her father and wondered if she would ever see him again. She was jolted from her thoughts by Oliver's finger prodding her shoulder. From the irritated look on his face she gathered that he had been doing it for quite a while.  She gave him a sheepish smile. Oliver asked, 'I never asked you what position you play in Quidditch. So, I'm asking you now.' Alison coloured and muttered, 'I don't play Quidditch; I'm scared of heights. I have been ever since…' 'Ever since what?' persisted Oliver. Looking down at her hands, she said, 'Ever since I was a child.' 

'Why?'

'I just am'

'That makes no sense! Why don't you play Quidditch?'

'GOD DAMN IT Oliver, will you let it go?? I can't play Quidditch, I can't fly, alright?'

All of this was delivered in a loud whisper that broke the silence of the classroom like a blade slicing through a cloud. Everyone turned around to look at them before turning back. Professor Lupin walked towards them the corners of his mouth twitching as though fighting back a smile. It looked to Oliver as though he was fighting a losing battle and sure enough, by the time he reached their table, he had given up and he had a huge smile on his face. Softly, he said, 'Perhaps, you two would like to show me your work as it is painfully obvious that you have finished?' blushing, they gave him their copybooks and then sank back into their seats. Five minutes later, he handed them back their books and said, 'Obviously, this work is much too easy for both of you. However, you, Oliver seem to have problem spelling the word anecdote. It is not a-n-e-c-t-o-t-e but a-n-e-c-d-o-t-e. But apart from that, I had no other problems. And as for you, Miss Adams, I have left a little post-it in your book outlining some of my queries. Perhaps you should read it, hmmm?' with that, he walked back to his desk and sat down. Smirking, Oliver said, 'I only made one mistake, you made lots. You suck, I don't. I'm smarter than you! Who's the dumb brute now?' Grimacing, Alison turned her back on Oliver and opened her book. There, on a yellow post-it was a note that read:

Sorry about that. Your work was great, but it was the only way I could think of getting this message to you, without anyone else finding out. Professor Dumbledore has arranged for you to meet your father at midnight tonight near the entrance to the Quidditch pitch. If you do not want to meet him, something that both the Professor and I would understand completely, then do not look at me as you walk out of the classroom. If on the other hand, you do want to meet him, smile as you walk out the classroom and then at five minutes to twelve tonight come down to the entrance to the Quidditch pitch.

Alison's heart jumped for joy. She was going to see her father for the first time in so many years. Trying to keep her real feelings from flooding onto her face, she sat quietly with her head on the table till the bell rang. When the bell rang, she felt Oliver's soft hand on her neck and heard his concerned voice asking, 'are you all right? I was just kidding about you not being very smart. I wasn't serious.' Looking up, Alison grinned and said, 'well, it's about time you apologized, you fuckin pig!' Laughing, they walked out of class and as she passed Professor Lupin, she looked right at him and smiled. Together, they walked down to the Great Hall for lunch. Harry, Hermione and Ron fell into step beside them. Alison smiled and enquired, 'good day so far?' to which Harry replied, 'Not bad, but we have potions after lunch, with the Slytherins, ugghh!' 'Yeah, I know what you mean; we just had potions with them this morning. And Snape was in a seriously vindictive mood.' They walked into the Hall grumbling about how unfair Snape was to them and calling him things that would have made a sailor blush. 

            During lunch, Alison saw Professor Lupin walk into the Hall, head straight for Dumbledore, whisper something in his ear and then walk back out. Her curiosity piqued, Alison wondered what the conversation concerned. She had an uncanny feeling that it had something to do with her father and the rendezvous that night. Her eyes followed him out of the Hall. Craning her neck to see which direction he was heading in, she saw him marching rapidly towards the door that led out to the grounds. Suddenly, the image of her father- as she remembered him from so long ago- being dragged out of the school grounds by hoards of Dementors shot through her mind, making her flinch. 'That would never happen,' she told herself, 'not while Dumbledore's in charge. It couldn't happen, could it?'

            Oliver watched Alison's eyes follow Lupin out of the Hall and into the grounds and thought that he saw a fleeting trace of pain sear across her face, contorting her beautiful features, but only for a fraction of a second, and then it was gone. Yet again, he experienced the nagging impression that there was something very painful in her past, something that was hurting her. And it seemed to him that pain was like a thorn embedded in her skin, covered by a scab, but still just as painful. And with every passing day, the thorn went deeper and deeper into her flesh, becoming harder to extract and increasing the agony she felt. Only this agony was worse because eventually she would forget what was causing it and then her soul would rot away, piece by piece, slowly but so steadily, until all that was left was the thorn, until all that was left was the pain. 

            That evening as she sat in a soft armchair in the common room, trying desperately to work on the Potion's homework, all she could think of was her approaching meeting with her father. She barely knew him. What ought she to call him? Father? Dad? Daddy? Her head spun with confusion. She forced her thoughts back to the Potions homework she had to do for the day after the next. She glared hatefully at the question, which read **_Create your own recipe for a potion that would cure boils and state the purpose of each ingredient to the final potion._** She had no idea where to begin and from the way Oliver was chewing on his lower lip, she could tell that he hadn't worked it out either. Slowly, the common room emptied out as people went up to their respective dormitories. At about quarter past ten, Oliver got up and stretched his arms. Looking at Alison, he said, 'Well, I think the both of us had better go to bed, seeing as how neither of us got any sleep last night.' When Alison tried to stand up, her legs gave way from sitting on them for too long. Before she hit the ground, Oliver caught her in his arms and helped her to the dormitory. As he half lifted- half dragged her up the stairs, Alison could smell the musky smell of his deodorant or aftershave. It smelt like Wild Rain, but before she could ask him what his deo was called, they had already reached the door to her dormitory. Softly, he said, 'Well, do you think you could make it to your bed from here? Or should I carry you in?' when she shook her head, he let go of her and then turned away. Suddenly, he turned back and before she could say anything, he leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips before hastening down the stairs and disappearing into his own dormitory. 

*****

            Lupin walked quietly down the stairs and out into the grounds. He made his way stealthily to the Quidditch pitch. There, he waited for what seemed like an hour but was actually no more than a few minutes. Suddenly, he thought he saw something move in the shadows. He whispered, 'you're late, Sirius.' And from the shadows emerged a man the whole wizarding world knew. But with his hair cut short, few would recognize him. He walked over to Lupin and embraced him. 'Moonie,' he said, 'It's been too long!' when they drew apart, a shadow passed over Sirius's tanned face. In a worried voice, he asked, 'Does she want to meet me? She probably doesn't! she probably hates me!! She hates me, doesn't she?' Lupin smiled inwardly and said, 'well, Sirius, I don't know about hate, but she seemed very eager to see you. Make of that what you will!' at this Sirius's face burst into a wide smile of relief and he asked in the eager voice of a father, 'Who does she look like?' 

'She's exactly like her mother, the same high cheekbones, the same beautiful lashes, the same perfect teeth and smile, the same glowing skin. I wouldn't have even made the connection had it not been for her eyes. Her eyes are your eyes, Sirius. When I looked in them, I saw you fifteen years ago. She has the same fiery spirit, the same willpower as you. I would not want to be the person she hates. And when she laughs, everyone stops to listen, to watch, to wonder at her beauty. 

'And she's coming, isn't she?'

'Yes, she is, she'll be here any second now, I'll leave her with you for a while, but she will have to go back up to the castle by 3:00 at the latest. And take care of her, Sirius…'

At that moment, they saw a slender figure running across the grounds, her hair glinting in the moonlight. As she got closer, they could see that her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was coming hard. She rushed straight into the outstretched arms of her father who wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. They stayed like this for what seemed an eternity. Lupin slipped away, not wanting to disturb them. Finally, they pulled apart and he held her at an arms distance to get a good look at her. Tears were streaming down her face, but that didn't affect her beauty one bit. In her, she saw his dead wife, and he realized how lucky he was to finally see her again. He wiped away the tears and placed a finger on her lips before guiding her to a bench surrounded by bushes. As they sat there, silently, Alison looked up at her father and grieved the time she had lost. She could see the lines in his young face, the wrinkles near his eyes. Slowly, he said, 'I'm sorry…I should never have left you…I…' but before he could continue, she covered his mouth with her hand and said, 'You never left me, Dad…whenever I'm feeling sad, I sing to myself and do you know what song I sing? I sing 'Hotel California' cuz that's the song you used to sing for me every time I cried.' Sirius looked at her and wondered, 'there must be someone in heaven who loves me, I would never have been so fortunate as to have a daughter like her if there wasn't.' 

Softly, he said, ' we have a lot of catching up to do, so we may as well start now!' and then they talked of how her mother died and how her last words had been, 'God, please let Sirius find my baby again.' They talked about Alison's life in Durban and her life here. Slyly, he asked, 'so what with my good looks, you must have a boyfriend, right?' Blushing, she replied, 'Not really, I sort of like this guy but he's my best friend here and tonight, he kissed me. But I'm not sure if that kiss meant anything or if he kisses every girl he's close to. And I'm scared that we might ruin our friendship. And that's the last thing I want to do. When he kissed me and then practically ran away, I must have stood there for an hour at least. It's like my mind froze and I didn't know what to do. But…'

'Look, the question is, do you like him enough to take the risk of losing your friendship with him?'

'I don't know! I should not have told you this. This isn't the sort of conversation one has with her father.'

'Yeah, well, how many people do you know who's father was convicted of murdering twelve people with one curse. We're going to be different from every other father and daughter. I want you to come to me with every problem you have. In fact, I want you to think of me as your friend. So you think you could do that?'

'Hey, I can do anything! After all, who's daughter am I?' 

*****

            As he walked away from Alison, his heart pounding, Oliver though to himself, 'Jesus Christ! What the hell came over me?' it was like he couldn't control himself, like he was meant to have kissed her. He could feel her eyes on his back and walked faster. Half his mind screamed, 'God, go back to her and kiss her, you know you want to…' the other half yelled, 'Now you've just screwed up your relationship with the best friend you ever had! Well done, smart Alec. What are you going to say to her in the morning? Oh, sorry, I was drunk?' When he entered his dormitory, Darren, Fred, George and Lee were already asleep. Not that he would have told them what had happened, even if they were awake. The only person that he could have talked to about this would have been Alison. And as he pulled off his shirt and got into bed, he no longer felt lust, no, he just wanted her back as a friend…just a friend, nothing else. But he knew in his heart that their friendship would not work, not while he felt like this about her, not when he wanted to kiss her soft lips every time he was close to her, not when he wanted to run his fingers through her silky brown hair, not when he wanted to run his hands down her spine and make her feel safe in his arms. Their friendship would not work as long as he loved her. 

            And as he lay in bed, all these questions pounding in his head, he tried to think of some part of his life that wasn't associated to her. But he couldn't think of one. Not even Quidditch. Even Quidditch reminded him of how beautiful she had looked when she defended herself about not being able to fly. He realized that she had become a part of him, a part without which he could not live, could not breath.

*****

            In the moonlight, Alison was still talking to her father. She had realized that she had missed him a lot more than she had thought. She had missed his bold smile, his strong, protective arms, his deep laugh, his corny jokes, but most of all, she missed having someone who sang to her. When she told him that, he laughed and then all of a sudden, began to sing the chorus of 'Hotel California'. She joined in and their voices mingled to form one. When they stopped, he looked at her in surprise and said, 'You're a better singer than your mother was, and that's saying something. When she moved to South Africa, she began a career in music, did you know that? And then she…and then she died.' His voice cracked and he looked down at the ground. 'I really did love her. She was an amazing woman, and you're just like her.' And he wrapped his arms around Alison and he could feel his body racking with silent tears. 

            They only let go when they heard someone clearing their throat in the bushes. Sirius jumped up and slunk into the shadows. A reassuring voice said, 'Calm down, Sirius, it's only me, Remus. It's 3:30, Alison must get some sleep or she won't be able to disrupt the class, and Oliver might actually have to work. Now, you wouldn't want that to happen, now would you?' At the sound of Oliver's name, she winced and Sirius placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and whispered, 'Just act like it never happened, play it cool. Bye, Honey, I'll see you soon, and if I don't I'll send you a letter, ok?' he kissed her and then vanished. Well, she though he had, but when she looked down, she saw a huge dog wagging its tail furiously. Speechless, she croaked, 'Dad, you're an Animagi?' Lupin chuckled as he led her back to the castle. 'You obviously had lots to talk about if he didn't tell you about the fact that he's an Animagi! Anyway, goodnight and go to sleep!' she realized that she had reached the entrance to the Common Room. She bid the Professor goodnight and thanked him profusely before entering the Common Room. As she climbed the stair to her dormitory, an overwhelming sleepiness overcame her and as soon as her head hit the pillow she fell into a deep sleep where there was no Oliver, no Sirius, just darkness, plain and simple.

*****

            The next morning, Alison's eyes opened at about 6:00. She looked around the semi-darkness to see that the rest of her roommates were not in their beds. Groggily, she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the dorm, she realized that they must have gone for Quidditch practice. 'God, that Oliver, he was crazy about Quidditch, he had probably been out there since five in the morning, warming up, looping the hoops. The thought of Quidditch made her sick. Choking back her tears, she lay down in bed and closed her eyes. In a while, she fell asleep. 

            His face loomed over her, leering at her, daring her to get up, to defend herself. As she lay flat on her back in the grass staring up at his face, he got off his broom. She tried to get up, but she couldn't; he had always prided himself on his Full Body Lock. He walked towards her, a smirk growing on his handsome face. Only now it did not seem so handsome, it seemed the face of a devil. As he walked towards her, his Quidditch robes flapped against his legs. Pulling out a wand from somewhere within his robes, he pointed it at her while muttering the counter curse for the Full Body Lock. All of a sudden, she was free. She scrambled to her feet and began to run away from him when she felt a rope around her waist. Screaming, she was dragged back to him. Holding the rope in one hand, he ran his fingers down her spine. As she screamed, he used his free hand to cover her mouth while he whispered, 'True, Muggles are inferior, but I find some of their ways of torture to be much more _amusing_ than magic, wouldn't you agree?' 

Alison jolted up in bed, her breath coming in short ragged gasps. Sweat poured down her face and mingled her tears. She looked up to see Alicia, Katie and Angelina staring at her, shock and fear all over their face. Alicia came forward and placed her hand on Alison's shoulder. Softly she said, 'we could hear you screaming in the common room when we got back from practice. The guys are outside; they want to know if they can come in. But honey, is there something you want to talk about? Cuz we're here whenever you need us, just say the word.' The tears still pouring down her face, she said, 'I was raped…' as she said this Oliver burst into the room and said, 'what? By whom… Can the rest of you leave us alone for a while?' Alicia looked at Alison, who nodded. The three girls walked out of the room and closed the door behind them. Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed and said tenderly, 'Alison, I swear to you as your best friend, I will kill the person who did this to you. Just say the word and…' 

'You don't know him, Oliver…he was in my old school. He was the captain of the Quidditch team. He raped me on the Quidditch field. That's why I hate Quidditch. Every time I see a Quidditch uniform, I think of him, his robes flapping against his calves, smirking. He raped me thrice and then he let me go, not out of mercy but because he was tired. He would have raped me again, and yet again, had he the stamina to do so. And I fled from the field wearing nothing but my torn shirt that I tried to keep from falling apart. And the next day in school, I could not look him in the eye. I could not look anyone in the eye. And I saw him joking with his friends as I think I was meant to do so. I was nothing more than a conquest, a pretty little trophy. And when Professor Dumbledore gave me the chance to come to this school, I readily accepted it; it was the chance of a lifetime. I would get to come here and start afresh and not be the girl who was raped, the naïve girl who had dared to cross swords with the most popular boy in school. And he did hate me, he hated me ever since I told his girlfriend and at that time, my best friend that he was cheating on her. And this was his form of vengeance, the most powerful kind a man can wield. I was screaming because I was reliving those few hours, the most painful in my life…' While she was telling the story, she had been coherent but now, she began to sob again. Oliver wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair, murmuring the words, 'It's ok, everything's going to be fine…' over and over again. He could feel her body trembling and he felt a surge of hatred for the bastard who had committed a crime so heinous. 

            As she sobbed, she suddenly realized whose arms she was in. she had half a mind to pull away from him for fear that they might kiss again, but in his strong muscular arms, she felt protected. As he stroked her hair and murmured words of consolation, she rested her head on his strong chest and closed her eyes. Gently, he pushed her away and said, 'Now, come on, get ready and we'll go down for breakfast, ok? And I don't want you to think about it, just try and forget about it, can you do that?' with that, he walked to the door and said, 'Ok, you lot can come in now.' With that, he walked out of the dorm and the three girls came in. Silently, they changed into their school robes. Alison, got up from her bed and said, 'You don't have to be silent, it happened a long time ago…' 'Then what made you remember it now,' asked Katie. 'I don't know, I honestly don't know! But whatever it was, it's over and I thought I had dealt with it, put it behind me, and I have. It's just that sometimes, when horribly things happen to you, they keep coming back to haunt you, again, and again, and again. But can we just not talk about it? Please?' And then she began to change as well. She went into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. When she came out, she found Alicia, Angelina and Katie putting on their make up. Looking up, Katie said, 'God, Alison, why don't you wear some make up? You're gorgeous as it is…with a little bit of eye shadow and blush, we could make you drop dead gorgeous.' 'Yeah, magazine cover material!' chimed in Angelina. Holding a mascara brush in her hand, Katie advanced on Alison. When she turned to run out of the dorm, she found that the door was now blocked by Angelina and Alicia who were now brandishing various implements of make up. Slowly, all three closed in on her and Alison ran shrieking onto her bed, from where she tried to ward them off by throwing pillows at them. Eventually she ran out of pillows to throw at them and as they closed in on her, circling her like sharks, Oliver poked his head into the dorm. Before he could say anything, all four girls shrieked and dashed for the bathroom, Alicia who was wearing nothing but her underwear in the lead. Oliver slammed the door shut and when Alison walked out into the common room a few minutes later, he was standing near the portrait hole, his face red and shameful. Giggling, Alison said, 'Wellll, now that you've seen Alicia in her underwear, its only fair that she sees you in yours. What do you think?' He attempted a sneering laugh but it turned out more like the bark of a starving dog. Alison laughed too, though something inside her told her that if anyone else saw Oliver in his underwear, she wouldn't be able to forgive that person. 

            As they were climbing out of the portrait hole, they were joined by Harry, Ron and a very concerned Hermione. Gingerly, Harry asked, 'Are you all right, now?' Smiling, she replied, 'Yeah, I'm fine now, thanks.' Together, they walked to the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. As they passed the Slytherin table, Alison was sure she heard someone whispering her name. When she looked back at the table, all she saw was a boy about Harry's age with white blonde hair slicked back staring right at her. When he saw her looking back at him, she averted his eyes. But as she sat down, she could feel his eyes boring her back. Softly, she asked Harry, 'Hey, who's the kid at the Slytherin table with the white blonde hair?' 'Oh, that's Lucius Malfoy, one of the most vile people on Earth.' At this, Oliver joined in and said, 'Who, Flint?' to which Harry replied, 'Yeah, him too!' They're _all_ rotten in that house.' Just then Alicia, Angelina and Katie walked to the table with their respective boyfriends. As they sat down, they gave each other simpering looks that made Alison feel sick. She was glad she wasn't sitting anywhere near Fred in case he had the urge to feel up his girlfriend's leg. As she was eating her cornflakes, the post arrived and she felt a parcel thud onto her lap. She looked down to see that it was a Muggle newspaper. Slowly, she untied the newspaper and from it fell a letter. She picked it up and unfolded it. It read:

**_Hey honey,_**

**_How are you? I know you like cricket (don't ask how I know, I just do!), and so I took out a subscription to this newspaper for you. Oh, and what happened with that boy? Hopefully, you're still best friends. Anyway, I have to go scavenge for food...haha, just kidding!!!!!_**

**_Bye honey, take care of yourself,_**

**_Love,_**

**_Dad_**

Smiling, she unfolded the paper and opened it to the Sports Section. The blaring headline said, 'Klusener rocks Aussies, secures fastest hundred' Ecstatic, she read the article through thrice. Oliver looked over her shoulder and asked, 'Is that a Muggle newspaper?? And who the hell is Klusener?' Grimacing, Alison explained to him that Klusener was only the most explosive player in cricket history. She gave up, however, when Oliver said, 'So, cricket's the game with the hoops?' 

'No, that's basketball!!' 

'Oh…but then what's cricket?'

'It's the game with the three sticks on either end of the pitch and…Oh, you won't understand!!'

'Fine, don't tell me!'

'Fine, I won't!'

Before either Alison or Oliver could say anything else, they heard someone laughing. They turned around to see Harry, Ron and Hermione cracking up. 'You wouldn't think they were any older than five year olds,' spluttered Ron through a mouthful of cornflakes, showering Hermione with little bits of half chewed cornflakes and flecks of milk. 'Oops, sorry, Hermione, 'he said sheepishly. 

After breakfast, Oliver and Alison walked to their Muggle Studies classroom, to find Professor Agallant prancing around the classroom in a state of great excitement. When he saw them, he dragged them into the empty classroom and said, 'Alison, you're half Muggle aren't you? Brilliant! You can help me tune this music system to a radio station!' And when Alison looked behind her, she saw, to her astonishment, a big music system with speakers and surround sound. Gaping, Oliver said, 'That's a music system?? Wow!'

Alison turned the volume up a bit and then began to twiddle the tuning knob. Eventually, she found a station that she liked which didn't play hard-core rock music, which would be impossible to dance to. For Professor Agallant had informed them that they would be dancing the whole of that lesson, while listening to the different genres of music being played. As Alison tuned the system, Oliver leaned against the desk, panic shooting through his system. 'Dance?' he thought, 'Dance? I can't dance! He can't possibly force me to dance! Shit! I am going to make such a fool of myself! Jesus Christ!' His worry must have shown on his face, as, when Alison stood up after finding a radio station, she asked him what the matter was. In a sheepish voice, he told her that he couldn't dance and she burst out laughing. 'You can't dance? How can you not know how to dance? Haven't you ever danced at parties?' 

'No…'

'Why not?'

'Cuz then I look really foolish!'

'So what's new?'

'Shut up, you bitch! Tell me what to do!'

'Don't worry, I'll teach you how to dance…it's not that hard, it's all about letting yourself go.'

            When everyone had arrived, Alicia and Angelina wearing excited looks on their faces, Professor Agallant said, 'Alright, Today, we are going to have a practical lesson, a dance lesson. And for those of you who are worried bout not being able to dance, don't worry about it. Most Muggles don't know how to dance anyways. The important thing is to have fun. Alison has kindly tuned this system to a radio station. For those of you who don't know what that it is, a radio station is like the WWN. This one plays continuous music so that we can dance without any questions. If, and notice the emphasis on if, the class goes well, we might have a competition, a competition between the four houses.' At this, he paused as the majority of the girls burst into loud cheers and applause. When the applause had died down, he continued, 'There will, of course, be tryouts, not everyone will be allowed to take part, you understand? Any questions?' When no one raised their hand, he turned to the system and pushed the volume up to the maximum! The subtle chords of Kryptonite blared out of the system. The classroom was plunged into semi darkness and disco lights started flashing from somewhere in the ceiling. But these disco lights were not light ordinary Muggle disco lights; they were so much better. The lights flashed white and black and all the colours of the rainbow, forming patterns on the walls, floor and everyone's faces.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            At first, everyone was reluctant to dance. No one wanted to be the only one on the dance floor; no one wanted to make a fool of themselves. As he scanned the room looking for some sign of a volunteer, Professor Agallant had an idea. He held out his wand and muttered a few words under his breath. Instantly, the room was plunged into complete darkness. A few girls screamed but the music kept going so they figured that the lights were meant to go off. 

            Alison hated not being able to dance to Kryptonite. It was one of her favourite songs. Grimacing, she glanced over at Oliver and was surprised to him swaying slightly, though she wasn't sure if that because he was so scared he was going to faint or because he actually liked the song.  The lights flashed on his face throwing his handsome features into sharp relief.  When he looked at her, she smiled and said, 'Wanna dance?' Just then, the light went out and the room was plunged into darkness. Through the darkness she could hear Professor Agallant say, 'It's ok, just start dancing, or we'll never have a dance lesson again.' All around her, Alison could feel people pushing past her on their way towards the dance floor near the front of the room. she groped in the dark for Oliver's hand and when she found it, she pulled him onto the dance floor, despite heavy resistance on his part. 

            As she stepped onto the floor, she began to sway to the beat. As she swayed, she could feel Oliver next to her, his hand in hers. Then, all of a sudden, the light came back on, but by now, everyone was on the dance floor, so it no longer mattered. Alison found herself right in the center of the floor with Oliver by her side. Right next to them stood Alicia and Angelina. Kryptonite was then replaced by When you're looking like that' by Westlife. A huge beam spread across Alison's face and she began to dance. As she danced, the rest of the people moved out of her way and formed a circle around her. Softly, Alicia whispered, 'Is there anything that girl can't do? I mean, she can dance, she's smart, she can probably play a lot of sports. It's so unfair!' 

'God, she's amazing!'

Oliver watched her dance, wonder on his face. Never before had he seen anyone move so gracefully and look so completely oblivious to the attention she was receiving. Her swaying hips hypnotized him and he could have watched her dance for an eternity. Then he looked at the boy next to him and groaned. Why did Cedric have to watch her dance? Oliver could tell that he was attracted to her as it was, but from the look on his face, Oliver knew he had no chance at all with Alison. For the look on Cedric's face was one that Oliver knew very well. It was the look Cedric wore when he had spotted a target. When the song ended, people began to dance again and Alison looked around for Oliver. Instead she saw Alicia and Angelina gaping at her. 'What?' she exclaimed. 'Why the hell are you staring at me?' 

'Where did you learn to dance like that?'

'I don't know…everyone in South Africa knows how to dance, I guess!'

'You have got to teach us! It will be so much fun'

Before Alison could respond, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She swung around expecting to see Oliver, but instead she looked straight into the eyes of Cedric. Smiling he said, 'That was some dance!' Embarrassed, Alison lowered her eyes and mumbled, 'Thanks…' Just then, she saw Oliver walking over to them. Chuckling, he said, 'Jesus, when you were dancing, pretty much everyone stopped to watch! You were amazing!' Her ears burning, Alison yelled, 'Bloody Hell! Will you shut up!!' The rest of them burst out laughing at her indignance. After another half an hour of dancing during which Alison discovered that Oliver wasn't half as bad a dancer as he had said he was, he was rather good. All he needed to do was just let himself go a little bit more.  When she told him that, he said in a voice that suggested he thought she was a bit loopy, 'If I let myself go any further, I wont be able to control myself, and you wouldn't want that, now would you?' Giggling, Alison agreed. Further away, Cedric was dancing with another girl, but his mind was on Alison. She and Oliver seemed to be spending an awful lot of time together. He wondered if there was anything going on between the two of them. But then he dismissed the thought. Oliver wouldn't know a babe if she bit him on the ass. 

            A half hour later, Professor Agallant turned off the music just as the bell rang for the end of the first period. Gesturing for them to sit down, he said, 'Well, did you all have fun?' to which he received a unanimous affirmation. Smiling he said, 'well then, I'm glad to inform you that we will be having an inter house dance competition. The categories are as follows: A pair who are prepared beforehand and a pair who will be expected to improvise on stage and a group of at least four who are prepared beforehand. The whole affair will be held on the night of Halloween. It will be a ball, but all of you will be required to dress in formal Muggle costume. By formal, I mean tuxedoes for the gentlemen and gowns for the ladies. The tryouts for the competition will be held tomorrow for the boys and the day after for the girls. And they will be conducted in the following manner. The girls of each house will choose the best boys of their own house and vice versa when it comes to the girls' tryouts. Any questions?' Oliver raised his hand. 'Yes, Oliver.'

'Do we all have to try out, Professor?'

'Well, not really, but it is encouraged, but to answer your question, no it is not compulsory for you to try out.' 

Relieved, Oliver let out a huge sigh causing the whole class to burst out laughing. Alison looked over at him and said to herself, 'He'll try out if it's the last thing he does in his life!' She was about to tell him when she felt someone come up behind her. Before she turned already knew who it was going to be, Cedric! Turning around, she forced a smile on her face around, she and then turned back. Cedric grasped her shoulder and he lowered his lips to her ears and whispered, 'Meet me outside the Grand Hall in lunch.' Before Alison could respond, Cedric had walked back to his friends on the other side of the room. Alison glanced over at Oliver and was surprised by the look on his face. His expression was a mixture of pain and what seemed like severe constipation. Alarmed Alison began to ask him what the matter was when she heard Alicia say her name from behind her. She turned around and saw Alicia and Angelina wearing huge smiles on their faces. Annoyed that they had prevented her from asking Oliver what the matter was, she said, 'What?' While Alicia giggled behind her hand, Angelina whispered, 'Cedric really likes you…we heard him telling his friend that he would love to go out with you. I think that's what he's going to tell you when you meet him today. Isn't that brilliant? You are just so lucky! I mean, once he's asked you out you'll have everything a girl could possibly ask for, brains, beauty and a gorgeous boyfriend. 'Alison broke in angrily, 'But I don't like him! I mean, I don't want him to ask me out, I don't want a boyfriend, it's just not my piece of cake. I….' She trailed off. She didn't need to explain to them why she didn't want a boyfriend. She didn't trust any boy enough to hold her in his arms and not maul her. But as she thought this, Oliver's face drifted into her mind's eye. He had held her in his arms so many times and not once had he tried to maul her. When she was in his arms, she always felt so completely safe, as though nothing would ever harm her again. 

*****

            Oliver saw Cedric leaning towards Alison and although, he tried not to listen, he could hear every word that Cedric whispered as clearly as though he had been meant to hear it. And although he kept trying to convince himself that Alison and he would never be anything but friends, when he heard Cedric arrange for a meeting outside the Great Hall at lunch, his heart sank and he tried to keep the pain from showing on his face. Just as Alison was about to open her mouth to ask him something, probably about the strange expression on his face, Alicia and Angelina began to whisper something while giggling. Although he hadn't heard what they said, he heard Alison response and although he didn't admit it to himself, he was happy that she didn't want a boyfriend, but at the same time, that fact caused him sorrow for it emphasized the fact that he would never be able to kiss her soft lips again. And as he thought that, he thought back to that night, and how he couldn't sleep at all, how much ever he tossed and turned. When he had kissed her, he hadn't wanted to stop, he had wanted to sweep her up in his arms and stroke her silky smooth hair and run his hands down the sides of her perfect frame. But he hadn't done any of those things, and he was relieved he hadn't. For that kiss could have ruined 

everything, their friendship, a friendship unlike any he had known before. Shaking His head, he tried to force the thought of that night out of his head. But all he could think of were her soft lips, and smooth skin.          

His reverie was interrupted by Professor Agallant saying, 'And next week, I would like all of you to bring something comfortable to change into, I don't want you flapping around the field trying to play Muggle Sports in those robes. Anyone who forgets will not be permitted to play!! Now we're going to watch the rest of that video that we started last week. At this, all the girls' faces lit up, Marat Safin's various 'attributes' had not gone unnoticed, or for that matter, unappreciated. Alison wasn't completely unhappy about it either, seeing as how he was her favourite player for more than just his proficiency at the game.

            As the class trooped out of the class twenty-five minutes later, the topic of conversation amongst the girls concerned Marat Safin and his 'sculpted' features. Oliver listened in disbelief as the Alicia and Angelina gushed on about his curly brown hair with a girl from Hufflepuff. Noticing the look of disbelief on his face, Alison looked at him enquiringly. 'I don't get it,' said Oliver, 'he wasn't that good looking! Why do they like him?' Alison answered, in a matter of fact tone of voice, 'Well, firstly, he's famous and secondly, he's got a perfectly toned body and really, that's all that matters to most girls. Looks don't count for too much anymore, so basically, if a guy is average in the looks department and near the top of the physical department, he's every girl's dream! It's as simple as that!'

'And you say we're shallow!'

'You are! The perfect girl is boobs on a stick, admit it, Oliver! I've been around a while; I know what a guy wants!'

'That is NOT true! We look at a girl's…umm..'

'Boobs?'

'NO, we look at other things, like…umm…Character!! Yeah! That's really important to guys.'

'Yeah, the easier she is, the better, huh?'

Oliver flushed, and opened and closed his mouth before giving up and snorting. Alison laughed and said, 'Well, if it's any consolation, a lot of girls are just as shallow. Whoever said size doesn't matter obviously never had sex.'

Oliver turned to her and said, in a sharp voice, 'So you're telling me that you've had sex?'

'No, but my friend has and the thing with girls, we talk! And about everything. And everything includes sex! But I've never had sex, myself, well, not willingly.' At this Oliver's face fell and he looked at the ground. In a soft voice, he said, 'Fck, I'm so sorry, I should never have asked you that question.'

'It's alright, I'm over it, I think.' In silence, they walked to the Potions classroom. With every step that she took, Alison's dread at having to go to Potions increased, not because she didn't like the subject but because of the fact that she had Marcus Flint in her class. The guy gave her the creeps. There was something fundamentally wrong with him. As she stepped into the class, she heard his sneering voice from somewhere in the gloom of the classroom. 'Dance for me, Tippytoes!' 

'Well, I would, Flint, but it might make your mommy jealous. I heard she usually 'dances' for you. She wouldn't like the fact that you've changed lovers, now would she?' Flint's face looked like he had been slapped hard. He gaped at her as she tossed her bag on the floor and sat down next to Oliver. 'Nice one!' he whispered. Alison acknowledged his compliment with a slight nod of the head, she didn't want to get too pleased with herself, just in case Flint had something else up his sleeve. Just then Snape billowed into the dark dungeon. After he wrote the lesson's assignment on the board, he walked around the classroom collecting the homework, commenting several times on the state the homework was in. More often than not, he was referring to the work of a Gryffindor. When he got to Alison, however, he could find no faults. Her paper was as clean as a whistle and the writing so clear, it looked like it had been typed. Without a word, he snatched the paper from Alison's outstretched hand before turning to Oliver. Luckily for Oliver, Alison had looked over his work and suggested that he rewrite, not because the contents made no sense, for they did, but because it was so shabbily presented.            

            When Snape had finished collecting the homework, he explained the assignment which read, 'Put the recipe created during the homework into practice. You have one hour.' Alison groaned. How on earth were they supposed to remember the potion they had made in the Homework? She raised her hand into the air. When Snape looked at her and nodded, she said, 'How are we supposed to do the assignment if we don't have the recipes with us?' Snape's face went an alarming shade of purple and he looked ready to burst, whether with anger or embarrassment, Alison couldn't tell. In a voice, apoplectic with rage, he said, 'Did you not learn the recipe off by heart? Did anyone learn the recipe off by heart?' When no one answered, he yelled, 'Did you not realize that I would make you test your potions? I thought that this year your class would not be as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually teach. But as Miss Adams has so clearly demonstrated, you are a bunch of dunderheads! In fact, you're worse, you are the most stupid dunderheads I have ever had the misfortune of teaching.' Although this little speech was directed at the whole class, by the time Snape was done, he was standing about an inch away from Alison, his face contorted with fury. Such was his fury that Alison felt as though his rage was directed at her. Suddenly he turned his back on her and walked to the front of the class. He picked up the sheaf of papers on his desk and then walked around the classroom distributing the papers. Alison sat down, her ears ringing from the lecture. Silently, she took back her recipe and began to put it into practice. Beside her Oliver did the same. 

            As Snape sat at the front, a vein twitching in his temple as he surveyed the class, Oliver scribbled something on a piece of parchment and slid it over to her. The note read, 'You all right? He was pretty harsh on you, the mean son of a btch.' Alison caught Oliver's eye, before nodding and giving him a small smile. When the bell rang, a half hour later, Alison gathered her stuff and rushed out of the classroom as fast as she possibly could. She made her way to the Great Hall in a huge hurry and was one of the first people to get there. She was joined a few minutes later by Oliver. As they sat down at the Gryffindor table, Alicia, Angelina and Katie entered the hall with their respective boyfriends. Spotting them, Alicia and the rest made their way over to where Oliver and Alison were sitting. Noticing the grim look on their faces, she asked, 'Bad lesson with Snape?' to which Oliver answered, 'Every lesson with Snape is a bad lesson, and it really doesn't help that I have that little prick, Marcus Flint in my class. He is such an arsehole!' Fred asked, 'What'd he do?' Oliver told him what Flint had said and what Alison had said in return and all of them burst out laughing.       

            When the laughter died down, the conversation turned to the tryouts for the dance competition the next day. Oliver blatantly refused to try out, however much the girls tried to persuade him to do so. 'I absolutely, refuse to make a huge fool of myself, house points or no house points. I'll win points by Quidditch; all the pretty boys can do the dancing.' Eventually, however after much persuasion, he gave in and agreed to try out. Alison smiled to herself, Oliver was going to be a huge hit, she was sure of that!     

            That evening, Alison went up to the dorms earlier than the rest of the girls. All that day, her eyes had been closing and she really needed to catch up on some sleep. She sat on the bed brushing out her hair, when someone knocked on the door. Alison yelled for the person to come in. the door opened and Oliver walked in wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt. Alison patted the bed beside her as she combed her hair and Oliver sat down next to her. He said, 'I don't think I'm going to try out tomorrow, I really don't know how to dance.' Indignantly, Alison said, 'Yes, you do, I saw you dance. And you are very good…you just need to let yourself go a little more, ok? Just move to the beat. It's really easy once you get the hang of it. She stopped brushing her hair and turned to him. 'You know,' she said, 'you were probably the best dancer out there today. You have a…natural grace that all athletes seem to have and it really helps. So I wouldn't worry, if I were you.' Oliver looked at her face framed by her long chestnut hair and felt that urge again. Softly, he said, 'Can I try something?' When Alison nodded in a bemused sort of way, he raised his hand to her hair and pushed some of it to one side and the rest to the other. The result was a zigzag parting that made half her hair fall to one side of her face and the rest to the other. 

As he pulled his hand away and examined his handiwork, he said, 'You should wear your hair like this, it suits you.' Slightly miffed, she said, 'I wouldn't talk about hair styling if I were you!' 

'What the fuck is wrong with my hair?'

'Well, it wouldn't hurt you to comb it once in a while.' 

After this, there was a silence that lasted a while. Oliver finally broke the silence by saying, 'Well, the reason I came here was because I want you to teach me how to dance. I know you're a girl and all, but maybe, maybe you know some guy moves.'

'You're not gonna let this go, are you?'

'Nope.'

'Well, if it makes you feel any better, you were the best dancer in that room, today, ok?'

'You're just saying that cuz you wanna go to sleep.'

'Oliver!!!'

'Alright, alright! I'm goin, goodnight.'

'Goodnight, Sleep tight!'

Oliver got up and walked towards the door. Alison thought he hesitated for a fraction of a second at the door, before walking out. She closed her eyes. Suddenly, she jolted up in bed; she hadn't met Cedric at lunch! What if it had really been something important? As she lay back down, she vowed to talk to him the next day.  

            The next day dawned bright and sunny, a perfect day for Quidditch as it turned out. Alison was awakened by a loud and persistent banging on the door. She jumped out of bed and stomped to the door. Throwing the door open, she saw Oliver stand in the doorway. He was wearing his robes and Hallelujah, his hair was combed. In a croaky voice, she said, 'Oliver, am I on your Quidditch team? No I don't think so! That means that you have no fucking right to bang on this door at six in the morning, seeing as how everyone in this room is not on your team. And you didn't even succeed in waking up your team mates, all you succeeded in doing is putting me in a fowl mood.' By this time, Alicia, Angelina and Katie had gotten up and were listening to this little speech with bated breaths. 'Sorry,' mumbled Oliver. I'll go, now.'

'Oh, gosh, Oliver, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to take me so seriously. I'm generally this bitchy in the morning. Add to the mix a little problem called PMS and we have major bitching day.' At the mention of PMS, Oliver coloured and his ears went bright red. He turned and walked back to the common room. Alison followed him out and once they had reached the Common Room, Alison said, 'What's wrong?'

'Well…it's just that I'm not too comfortable with you talking about your…umm…'

'My period?'

'Yeah!' said Oliver in relief.

'Ok, Oliver, I know you might find this hard to believe but I am a female and I, like the rest of my 'species' do get periods. And if you're going to be my best friend, you're gonna have to get over this childish fear of the word and all of its implications, ok? It's completely natural and you're gonna have to learn to deal with it. Sometimes, before I get my period, I feel really crummy and the only way I can feel better is to be a total bitch. But the good news is that it only lasts a few minutes and then I'm back to normal. So we're ok?'

'Yeah…it's just…well, my mum doesn't talk to me about this sort of stuff, you know?'

'Yes Oliver, but I'm not your mum, I'm your best friend! There's a big difference. You can tell me dirty jokes and I'll laugh, I'm not gonna send you to your room without your supper or whatever it is that your mother does.'

At that moment, the rest of the team walked into the Common Room, Harry half asleep on George's shoulder. Alison suddenly realized that she was wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and tried, as nonchalantly as possible to walk back to the dorm with some of her self-dignity intact.

            When Alison got back to the dorm, she jumped straight into bed and fell asleep. She was awoken an hour and a half later by someone pulling the bedclothes off her. Drowsily, she sat up and looked t her watch. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. She had to be seeing things, the watch said it was 8:30, but breakfast began at 8:15. Shit! She looked at her awakener and saw that it was a highly indignant Alicia. As Alison brushed her teeth, Alicia recounted how Alison was supposed to have woken up at 8:00 and met them for breakfast at 8:15. Through the foam, Alison sprayed, 'Sorry, Alicia!' The apology seemed to soften Alicia's hard approach and she tossed Alison's robes at her before turning around so that Alison could change. As she waited for Alison to change, she said, 'I wish I had your legs.' Abruptly, Alison stopped what she was doing, the robe pulled halfway to her waist. 'What?' she asked. 'When did you see my legs?' 

'This morning, in the Common Room. It was all the guys could talk about all practice. I am so jealous. And I don't like the fact that my boyfriend thinks you've got sexy legs. But then again, he's only human.' Alison's face went from pink to red in a matter of seconds. As she fiddled with her tie, Alicia enquired, 'So, what did Cedric say to you?'

'Oh, I didn't meet him, I forgot!'

'You forgot? How could you forget a rendezvous with the sexiest guy in the whole bloody school? Are you crazy? Have you seen Cedric Diggory?'

'Look, he's not my type, he's too…'

'…good looking? Sexy? Perfect?'

'NO, he's just too popular with the girls, and I barely know him. I can't go out with someone I don't know. If you ask me, love is friendship, no more, no less. Of course, in love, you do get to have all the sex but that's about the only difference. If you don't trust the guy, and I don't trust Cedric, it's not possible to love him. That's what I think, anyway!'

            They made their way to the Great Hall and as Alison walked towards the Gryffindor table, she could make out Cedric craning his head to get a better view of her. As she slid into the empty seat next to Oliver, he passed her the paper. Quickly, she skimmed through the paper looking for anything of slight interest. Finding nothing of the sort, she put down the paper and looked at the person sitting across from her. It was Harry. A curious smile on his face, he asked, 'Is that a Muggle newspaper?' When Alison nodded in affirmation, he asked, 'Can I see it?'

'Sure, go ahead. And tell me if you find anything interesting especially if it has something to do with cricket.' 

'What about football?' asked Dean Thomas, the boy sitting next to Harry. 

'Stupid game, they just have to kick the ball into the goal. Anyone can play football, you don't need even half a brain to play that game.'

Rearing himself up to his full height which was an unimpressive five feet three inches, he said, 'Well, better than a game where there are so many things you have to do that the only people who watch the damn game are brain surgeons.'

'I watch it, I'm not a brain surgeon…'

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt someone come up behind her and she tuned around to see Cedric. He whispered, 'can I talk to you outside for a second?' Temporarily mute, Alison nodded dumbly desperately willing someone to offer to go along with them. But no one did and Alison got up resignedly and accompanied Cedric out of the Hall. Once outside the school building, they walked in silence towards the lake glimmering in the distance. When they reached the lake, he sat down on the ground and beckoned for her to sit on the ground as well. Gingerly, she lowered herself onto the ground. She did not look him in the eye but instead stared straight out over the glimmering surface of the lake. Taking a deep breath, Cedric began to talk. 'Look, Alison, I'm not going to beat around the bush, I'm going to get straight to the point. I like you, I really like you. I think you're smart and sexy and funny. You're everything a guy could ever want in a girl. What I'm trying to say is… I would be honored if you would agree to be my girlfriend.' Alison realized that she had been holding her breath for the length of Cedric's speech and when he was done, she let out the air with a whoosh. She looked him straight in the eye and said, 'I'm sorry Cedric. I can't go out with you, not because I don't like you but because I don't love you. And I'm really not too good with relationships. The only relationship that seems to work for me is friendship. So, I can't go out with you, but we could still be friends. I'm really sorry. I have never been asked out before so I really don't know how to say no properly. I'm sorry, Cedric.'

Cedric got up and dusted the seat of his robes, before holding out a hand to help her up. As they walked back to the castle, Cedric asked, 'is there someone else you like?' Alison glanced at him through the corner of her eye before saying, 'No, there isn't.' But as she said that, something inside her wept. And she realized that she was infatuated, if not in love with not Cedric but Oliver. 

*****

As Cedric and Alison walked out of the Great Hall, Oliver's heart sank. He couldn't bear to think about where they were going and what they might do once they got there. And that morning, she had called him her best friend. And he realized how much she meant to him. Before she came, the only topic he discussed with girls was Quidditch, but now, now he had to talk about PMS, and surprisingly, he realized he was ok with it. All around him, people were talking about their classes, but Oliver was oblivious to all the chatter. The same question whirled round his brain, 'Should I ask her out and endanger our friendship, or should I just try to keep our relationship purely friendly.' Alicia's voice broke into his thoughts, 'That girl is just so lucky. Cedric is as hot as they come.' Needless to say that her boyfriend wasn't too pleased about it. Oliver pondered over her statement. And as he compared Cedric's attributes to his own, his heart sank lower and lower until it was somewhere around his toes. Alison slipped into the chair next to him and began to drink her milk quietly. When she realized that all eyes were on her, she looked up and said, 'WHAT?'. In an impatient voice, Angelina asked, 'Well??? What happened? Are you two going out?'

'What?'

'Are you going out with him?'

'With whom?'

'WITH CEDRIC!!"

'Oh, no, I'm not…'

Oliver went from the deepest depths of a dark abyss of despair to the highest peaks of elation. He tried to conceal his happiness and relief but even if he had failed, no one would have noticed, everyone was too busy gaping at Alison who had gone back to nonchalantly drinking her milk. In a flabbergasted voice, Katie asked, 'He asked you out and you said no?'

'Yeah! Why is that so hard to believe? He had to get rejected sooner or later. We're still friends though.'

'You must be the first and last girl to turn him down' said George in an awed voice.

'Yeah, every girl he ever wanted, he got in the end' agreed Lee. 

'It's the end of his reign, then, I guess!!' Alison said with a wry smile. She looked at her watch and realized that they had better leave for the next lesson. She picked up her bag and made her way out of the Hall accompanied by the rest. 

            After classes, Alison went back to the Common Room to dump her books. She didn't want to have to carry them to the tryouts. She was accompanied by Oliver, who was more than a little nervous. Attempting the old 'I'm sick' routine didn't seem too ridiculous to him. But he knew Alison wasn't going to fall for that. She was just too shrewd. She told him to go change into something more comfortable, while she dropped her books in her dorm. When she got into the dorm, she found her roommates touching up their make up. Sniggering, she walked towards her bed. Katie looked up from the mirror and said, 'What's so funny?' 

'Oh, nothing! Nothing at all!'

'Look, just try wearing this make up, just for a while, you will look absolutely stunning' said Angelina. The other two agreed completely with her. Resignedly, Alison set down her books and walked towards where the girls were standing in front of the mirror. She took the eyeliner that Katie held out and deftly outlined her eyes with a smooth line. As she handed back the liner, Angelina asked, 'So you do know how to wear make up, and god, just with that, you look so gorgeous.' A slight gleam came into Alison's eyes and she said, 'I have the most brilliant idea. Why don't we go to the dance club just by Hogsmeade? It will be brilliant. We can take the guys too. It'll be so much fun, and I'll dress up, I swear.' 

'There's just one small problem, how do we get there? I refuse to walk there, if that's what you had in mind!'

Alison grinned and walked to her trunk. She threw it open and pulled out a square box that looked a lot like a Rubik's cube. She walked back to them, holding the little cube triumphantly. 'This is a Transporta-Cube. It transports anyone who touches it to wherever they want to go. It's a cross between a port-key and Floo powder. It's really useful, as you can see. So what do you think? Do you wanna go?'

'What if we get caught?' 

 'Is that a no? Cuz then I'll just put it back in the trunk.'

'Alright, let's go!' said Katie. 

            Suddenly, there came a loud rap on the door and an indignant Oliver stuck his head in and said, 'Damn it, Alison, would you please hurry up?' Oliver stepped into the dorm and Alison's breath caught in her throat. Oliver was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a navy blue turtleneck shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Without a word, Alison walked towards him and as she got closer, she could see the toned muscles of his arms and smell his aftershave. Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the dorm, followed by a slightly puzzled Oliver. 'So, how do I look?' he asked. Alison turned to face him and then smiled. 'You look great!' Oliver looked carefully at her face; there was something different about it. Her eyes seemed to sparkle and then he realized that she was wearing eyeliner. Alison realized what he was doing and she blushed. Oliver looked at her and marveled at the perfection of her features, the full lips, the high cheekbones, the large eyes, the thick lashes, everything about her was perfect. In the Common Room, they were joined by Fred, George and Lee. Fred whispered to George, 'God, I didn't think it was possible, but she looks even better that usual!' When finally, the three girls joined them, the whole group made their way to the Muggle Studies classroom, where the tryouts were being held. 

            As they got closer to the classroom, Oliver's heart beat faster and faster. When they entered the classroom, he was devastated to find it filled with all the Gryffindors of 6th and 7th years. He found himself being dragged to Professor Agallant and being signed up by a very enthusiastic Alison. As he watched Professor Agallant print his name onto a sheet of paper, half his mind urged him to make a break for the door and the freedom beyond. In what seemed like a matter of minutes, he heard Professor Agallant calling for silence. Once the talking died down, he said, 'Ok, I hope all contestants have signed up, if not, this is your last chance. No one? The girls will judge the contestants. We have an applaudometer that will measure your applause at the end of the contestant's turn. The top ten contestants will qualify. All right, then, can we have the first contestant please? Fred Weasley, if you would be so kind.' Fred stepped onto the dance floor and as the lights went off and the music started, Fred began to dance. And Alison realized that he wasn't half bad. He moved well to the music. Oliver leaned towards Alison and whispered, 'he is so much better than me! I can't do this!' 

'Don't worry, you'll be great! Trust me!'

After Fred, it was George's turn and then Lee's. As time went by and song after song was played, Oliver became increasingly jittery. Finally, his name was called and he made his way to the floor after an encouraging smile from Alison. As he stepped onto the floor, the opening chords of 'In the End' by Linkin Park blared from the system. Alison wished she could be on the floor dancing. For a second, Oliver looked a bit confused but then he began to sway to the beat. As the music got louder and more intense, his moves got more complex until he had the audience gasping. He hadn't danced like this the DADA class. He was amazing! As the chorus began, he went into a series of spins and flips that Alison hadn't thought were possible. She could feel the crowd sway around her and she began to sway as well. She hadn't thought that Oliver was this good. He had the grace of an animal. When the song came to an end, the crowd burst into applause and whoops. The applause lasted well over three minutes. When it finally died down, and Oliver made his way back to Alison, she hugged him and said, 'You arsehole! You never told me you were that good!'

'Well, I went for classes when I was younger but I hated it. When I went out there, I figured, I might as well do some of the steps I learnt in the class. Did you like it?'

'Like it? It was brilliant!' chimed in Angelina, Alicia and Katie. Fred, George and Lee echoed their thoughts. Professor Agallant stepped onto the dance floor and said, 'Well, here are the results. The best male dancer in Gryffindor, a unanimous choice I would imagine, Oliver Wood!' The whole room burst into thundering applause. When the applause died down, Professor Agallant read out the rest of the list. Fred, George and Lee all featured in the top four. 

            As they walked towards the Common Room from the Muggle Studies classroom, the girls told the boys of their plan to go to the dance club near Hogsmeade. The boys, all high on adrenaline, agreed wholeheartedly. The whole group was in a jovial mood when they reached the Great Hall. After a quick dinner, they made their way to the Common Room. The girls went to their dormitories and the boys went to theirs. Once in the dormitory, Alison pulled off her robes and threw open her trunk. She rummaged through the contents for a few seconds and then pulled out a pair of blue jeans that were slightly flared at the bottom and a sleeveless white turtleneck. From beneath her bed, she pulled out a pair of high-heeled black shoes. The other three girls gathered around her and admired the outfit. Alison headed for the bathroom and changed. When she came out, the other girls gasped in admiration and jealousy. Alison blushed and sat down in front of the mirror. As she put on her makeup, the other girls changed into their Muggle clothes. When they were all done, they sat around on the bed till it was about 11:30 and they were sure everyone else had gone to bed. At 11:30, there was a light knock on the door and when Alicia opened the door, she saw all four boys standing there wearing jeans. Alison was the last one out; she was just spraying some perfume on her wrists and neck. When Oliver saw her, his heart skipped a beat. The tight blue jeans showed off her long, slender legs and narrow waist. The white top offset her glowing coffee coloured skin. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Oliver stood in the doorway, a pure white rose in his hand. Alison smiled when she saw the rose and coyly, she took it from Oliver. As she took it from him, her hand brushed against his and a slight tingle ran up her spine. She could smell the woody smell of his perfume and it intoxicated her, so much so, that she had to turn away to prevent herself from yielding to the temptation and kissing him, full on the lips. She slid past him and into the corridor when she realized that she had forgotten the Transporta Cube. She rushed back into the dorm to get it. After a few minutes of rummaging through her trunk, she managed to find it. She went back to the Common Room to find the rest of the group there, waiting impatiently for her. Each one touched the cube and in a clear voice, Alison said, 'Jungle Gym'. All of a sudden, they all felt a sudden jerk around the region of their navel and the next second they found themselves in a dark alleyway. Alicia, Angelina and Katie looked worried at the dingy surrounding, but Alison had a huge grin on her face and she walked purposefully towards the brick wall. The rest watched her, the confusion clear on their faces. As they watched, she neared the wall and then seemed to walk right through it. One second she was in front of the wall, the next second, she had vanished. Then Oliver realized that it was the same sort of wall that prevented Muggles from entering Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He walked towards it cautiously, followed by the others. Closing his eyes, he waked straight at it and instead of walking into the wall as he had expected, he found himself on the other side in a well-lit road filled with clubs, their neon lights flashing. Grinning, he joined Alison and soon, they were joined by the rest. Together, they made their way to the closest club. At the door, they were stopped by a large man who asked for some sort of identification to verify the fact that they were eighteen. Oliver's insides froze and he looked at Alison in alarm. But Alison had thought of this. And from her pocket, she pulled out 8 identification cards, one for each of them. The man snatched them from Alison and held them up against the light radiating from the sign as though to detect a forgery. But evidently, it passed the test, for he handed the Ids back to them without a word and allowed them to pass. Once inside, Alison could barely hear herself think. Loud music blared from speakers set up all around the disco. The disco lights flashed green, red, blue, pink and every other colour imaginable. The look of ecstasy on the their faces was priceless, Alison mentally kicked herself for not having brought a camera. The three couples headed straight for the dance floor, while Alison and Oliver made their way to the bar. Alison sat down on the hard stool and gestured for Oliver to do the same. In a voice that suggested that she'd done all of this before, she ordered herself a Bacardi Breezer. Oliver got over his surprise and ordered a rum and coke. As they waited for their drinks, Oliver leaned over to Alison and yelled, 'You look brilliant!' Alison smiled and said, 'you don't look half bad yourself, cowboy!' The two of them burst out laughing. Alison looked towards the dance floor where the rest seemed to be having a blast. She looked at Oliver and raised her eyebrows as if to say, 'Are we going to dance or what?'

Oliver grinned and said, 'Would you like to dance, Miss Adams?'

'Why, that would be smashing, darling' said Alison is a falsetto and a very proper English accent.

Oliver took her outstretched hand and led her to the dance floor. Once on the dance floor, they completely forgot everything else. All they thought of was the music. They danced to song after song, long after the others had gone to sit down and catch their breaths. Eventually, the DJ told a very disappointed crowd that he would have to go catch _his _breath, but assured them that he would be back in a half hour at the most. Flushed, Alison and Oliver made their way off the dance floor to where Angelina, Alicia and Katie were sitting with their respective boyfriends. As Alison sat down, she couldn't help but notice George's hand stroking Alicia's thigh and she felt a sudden pang to be caressed, to be held in someone's arms, to be touched. She glanced at Oliver out of the corner of her eye and he didn't seem to have noticed anything. As she studied his features, her desire to be held became stronger, no longer did she want to be held by just anyone, she wanted to be held by Oliver. 

            Across the room, Alison's presence had not gone unnoticed. A group of boys had watched lustfully as she danced, and their jealous eyes followed Alison and Oliver to their table. One of them, who had jet black hair and emerald green eyes, said, 'Have you ever seen anything that fine?' The boy sitting next to him, running his hands through his blonde hair, said, 'I wouldn't be single I knew a specimen as fine as that.' The other boys looked at him in surprise. AJ never said things like that. He was the ultimate playboy, the perfect idol for any young boy who wanted to play the field and get away with it. He was the sort of guy who hated commitment, the kind who upped and left at even the slightest mention of a relationship. At that moment, the DJ came back, and six of the people sitting at the table got up and headed towards the dance floor along with the majority of the crowd in the dance club. The girl they had all been staring at stayed put as her partner rose and walked towards the bathroom. AJ smirked, a manic gleam in his sparkling eyes, as he rose from his seat and made his way towards her. 

            Alison saw him coming and hoped that the look in his eyes was purely in her imagination. His pants hung low on his narrow hips and the look in his smoldering eyes was unmistakably one of lust. She looked around, willing Oliver to reappear from the bathrooms, but before she could get up, the boy was at her side. In a deep voice, he said, 'You wanna dance?' 

'Umm…actually, I'm waiting for my boyfriend to get back from the bathroom and…'

'What your boyfriend doesn't know won't hurt him, now will it, honey?'

'Look, I don't want to dance with you, I'm sorry!'

The look on AJ's face was very similar to the one she had seen on Cedric's face so recently. It was a look of utter disbelief that a girl was turning him down. 

But this expression lasted but a few seconds before it was replaced by a hard look that chilled Alison to the bone. He grabbed her wrist in an iron grasp and began to pull her towards the dance floor. Alison struggled to pull away from him but the more she struggled, the tighter his hold got. Suddenly, she felt another hand on her wrist and looked up to see Oliver, his face rigid with rage. He wrenched her hand from AJ's grip and pushed her behind himself, before turning to AJ and saying, 'Man, don't you ever lay a finger on her again, unless you want that finger as well as every other on both of your hands broken and shoved up your ass.' His every syllable trembled with rage and Alison watched him in surprise. Oliver had always struck her to be one of the most easy going people she knew. AJ's face went red and he said, 'I'll do what I want, when I want to, and anyone who tries to make do otherwise will pay, big time! So what makes you think you're an exception, you fuckin son of a b…' He never got to finish his question, as Oliver's fist landed square on his jaw and sent him reeling to the floor in a quivering heap. With that, Oliver held out his hand and Alison took it, and the two of them walked out of the dance club, hand in hand. They walked into the next building, which was a more somber, and a much posher place. They sat down at a table and ordered sodas. Breaking the awkward silence, Alison said, in a voice that suggested that she was very grateful, 'Thanks Oliver'.

'No problem…what are friends for?'

'I didn't think you could punch that hard'

'I didn't think I could either, but I guess I just saw red when I saw him pulling you to the dance floor.'

'Oh…well, thanks anyway'

At that point, Alicia walked into the pub followed by George and said, 'Oh, there you are, we were looking all over the place for you! Where the fuck did you two disappear?'

'We felt like talking alone for a bit, you know?'

'Oh, all right…we just figured that since its nearing three o'clock, we'd better be getting back to school.'

Astounded, Oliver looked at his watch, his face turning white at the time. 'Quidditch practice is still on for this morning, no excuses!'

Alison and Lee chuckled loudly as the rest groaned and grumbled. Alison pulled out her wallet to pay for their sodas but Oliver knocked her hand out of the way and paid instead. As they walked out of the pub, Alison said, 'You didn't have to pay, it wasn't like we were on a date, or anything, you know!'

'Yeah, but I'm a gentleman and gentlemen don't let their female friends or even their female best friend pay for the drinks!'

'You male chauvinist pig!'

'How am I a chauvinist?'

'Forget it! You wont understand!'

'True, I wont! Cuz I'm not a girl!' drawled Oliver in a falsetto.

When they reached the wall, Alison followed the others through it and once in the narrow alley, she pulled out the little cube. When everyone was touching it, she said, 'Hogwarts, Year 6 Gryffindor girls' dormitory'. A second later, they were all standing in the girls' dormitory. The boys left the dormitory yawning and the girls quickly changed and then jumped into bed. One by one, they all put off their lights and soon, the dormitory was silent with the exception of the regular breathing of its occupants. Outside the window, the moon shone on the lake, emphasizing its sparkling ripples and black depths. 

            The next morning, Alison awoke to the sound of loud knocking on the dormitory door. Groaning, she thought, 'God damn it, Oliver, not everyone cares about Quidditch as much as you do!' But as she thought this, she felt a slight twinge in her chest and she knew she was lying to herself. She had told Oliver why she hated Quidditch now, but she had conveniently forgotten to tell him how much she had loved the game before that bastard raped her. She knew Oliver well enough to realize that he would make her get on a broomstick, something she had vowed never again to do. Her thoughts were jolted back to the present by the door slamming open and Oliver stomping in, trailing mud allover the dormitory. He had obviously been outside already. She rolled over in bed and jammed her pillow down over her ears to try and block out the sound of his voice. But even then, she could hear him pulling the bedcovers off the other three girls in the room. Finally, they were awake and he left the room. Five minutes later, her three roommates also left the room, half asleep, their hair in tangles, their faces barely washed. Alison drifted back into a peaceful slumber only to woken a half-hour later by a persistent Hermione. As Alison squinted her eyes to adjust them to the glare of the sun, she put her hand on Hermione's shoulder and told her to slow down and stop babbling. Hermione calmed down and said in as calm a voice as she could muster, 'Alicia fell off her broom, she's hurt her arm, she's in the hospital wing.' Alison jumped out of bed, pulled her clothes on as quickly as possible, ran a brush through her hair, before making her way down to the hospital wing as fast as she possibly could. 

            When she got there, she found the rest of the team sitting with an ashen Alicia who was crying volumes, despite all of George's efforts to comfort her. Through her tears, she manages to say, 'Oh, god, Oliver, I'm so sorry, how are you going to play the match in two weeks with only two Chasers?' In a kindly tone, Oliver said, 'That is the least of my worries at this point in time; the most important thing is for your arm to get better. In the meantime, we can find a substitute to take your place. How long would it take for your arm to heal?'

'Madam Pomfrey said the bone would heal in a couple of days but the tendons, they're going to take at least seven to eight months…'

'But by then, the Quidditch season would be over, you won't be able to play in any matches at all this year? Damn, how are we going to find someone to replace you, who's good enough to take your place for the whole year?'

Alicia's eyes filled with tears and Oliver realized he had said precisely the wrong thing. Before he could even consider as to how to put the mistake right, Alison said, 'I know the perfect person, she's not half as good as you, Alicia, but she isn't the worst.'

'Who?' said Oliver in an incredulous voice, a sentiment echoed by the rest of them.

In a calm voice that showed no trace of arrogance or conceit, she said, 'Me' 

            In the silence that followed, she could almost hear everyone's mind whirring as they struggled to figure out why she, of all people, would want to play Quidditch. Breaking the silence, George asked tentatively, 'But can you play Quidditch?'

'You'll see' said Alison in a voice that betrayed no emotion. Alicia's tense face relaxed and she leaned back on her pillow.

 For some reason, the fact that Alison had volunteered made her feel better although she, nor anyone else in Hogwarts for that matter, had ever seen Alison play Quidditch. Alicia's confidence in the South African was probably due to the fact that in her mind, there were precious few things that Alison could not do brilliantly. She reached for the glass of water beside her bed and raised it to her parched and dry lips. When she was done, she said, 'But Madam Pomfrey said that I would be able to try out for the dance competition this evening.' At this, Madam Pomfrey's sharp voice sliced through the crisp air in the hospital ward, saying, 'Now, Alicia, don't twist my words. I said, if, and only if you rest until the evening, I might consider letting you try out. So I suggest the rest of you scoot or Alicia wont be able to try out and it will be all your fault.' She then stalked off towards the next ward, throwing a dirty glance at Oliver who was dripping mud all over the floor. The whole team turned to leave. At the door, Alison realized George wasn't with them. She turned back just in time to see George kiss Alicia softly on her lips while running his hand through her hair. He looked up to see her watching and she grinned. George's ears went bright red and with his red hair, it looked like his head was on fire. 

            When they got back to the Gryffindor Common Room, Alison went back up to the dorm to change. When she got there, she decided to have a nice, steamy bath. When she emerged from the bath, her skin glowing and little beads of water on her bare skin, the dorm was empty. Quickly, she pulled on her robes and was struggling to put on her tie when Oliver walked into the room. Alison looked up and said, 'God, Oliver, you could knock you know? I might have been changing!'

'Well, you're not, and you're taking an awfully long time to get ready so I decided to come up here to check that you were alright.'

'Aww, how sweet', said Alison before continuing her battle with her tie. Oliver grinned and walked over to her. He knocked her hand out of the way and said, 'Finally, something you don't know how to do.' Deftly, he knotted the tie and then looked up at her triumphantly. Alison shrugged her shoulders in a would be nonchalant gesture, as if to say, 'So what, I can do tons of things that you cant do!'

            As they walked down to Breakfast, Oliver said, 'Why did you tell me that you couldn't play Quidditch?'

'If I had told you, you would have made me get on a broom and play. I know you would have! And I wasn't ready for that then.'

'But now, you're ready?'

'Yeah, I am. I don't know why I should let something that bastard did ruin something that I really do love.' 

'So you do love Quidditch?'

'Yeah, I do love Quidditch, Oliver!'

'Do you want to practice after your tryouts? Oh, wait a second, you don't have a broom, do you?'

'Actually, I do, its in my cupboard, I brought it just in case.'

'What make is it? Nimbus 2000? Clean sweep seven?'

'Firebolt' said Alison airily.

Oliver's mouth dropped open and he yelled, 'A FIREBOLT? AND YOU'VE KEPT IT IN YOUR CUPBOARD ALL THIS TIME? ARE YOU NUTS? THAT'S A CRIME!'

'Calm down, Oliver! It's no big deal! My dad sent it to me…' at the mention of her dad, her smile faltered for a second, but before Oliver got a chance to wonder if he had imagined it, it was back in place again. But there was no mistaking the sadness in her eyes and he vowed to find out the secret about her father. He knew her mother was dead but her father remained a mystery. 

            At the breakfast table, Alison felt Cedric's eyes following her as she sat down and poured herself a glass of orange juice. Trying her best to ignore him, she smiled at Harry, who was sitting opposite her. He said, 'Are you really going to be Chaser in Alicia's place? Cuz, I thought you hated Quidditch!'

'Yes, I am going to try out for Chaser and no, I don't hate Quidditch; I just needed a bit of a break from it. So how's everything going?'

'Pretty good, oh yeah, you got a letter, its on the side of your plate.'

Alison thanked him for telling her before ripping open the envelope and extracting the letter. As she had expected, it was from her father and as she read, a small smile formed on her face.

_'Hey, honey,_' said the letter. '_How is everything going? How's Oliver? If he's good enough to turn your head, I really must meet him. Speaking of meetings, I'm in the vicinity today and I was hoping I could see you. All right, I'll be frank; the reason I'm in the vicinity is because I want to see you. Nothing urgent, though, just regular fatherly love. Did you read about Herschelle Gibbs getting suspended for smoking marijuana in his hotel room? That guy doesn't seem to learn; he has a regular wild streak. So what have you been up to? I sincerely hope you haven't been following all the rules, I hope you're doing me proud. What's that prck Snape doing these days? He was a real loser when we were in school. He used to follow me, James and Remus around all the time trying to get us into trouble or some such thing. I know I'm babbling along like a brook now, but I can't help it, I'm really bored. In fact, I'm so bored; I think I will go for the cricket match that's being played between South Africa and England now. Yes, I believe I will! Note how I keep stressing this plan of action. Are you jealous? I can just see your face, green with envy! Tut, tut, green is a very unbecoming colour!_

_Anyway, I must go now,_

_Love,_

_Dad_

_P.s. This time try and write back!'_

            Alison set down the letter and reached into her bag for a quill. After a few minutes of rummaging, she found one and began to pen a reply.

'Hey Dad, you can bet your ass I'm jealous. And whoever said green was a very unbecoming colour obviously never saw me in green. Oliver's fine. At this point in time, he is stuffing his face with cornflakes, the pig. We're really close, maybe even closer than before. I'm not denying the fact that I am attracted to him, because I am! Very much so. But he's just so sweet, I'm not sure I want to endanger our friendship by going out with him. This morning he tied my tie for me because it was taking me forever to do. 

            And guess who the new Chaser on the Quidditch team is? And no, it's not Oliver because Oliver is already on the Quidditch team; he's the captain and the keeper. And a bloody good one he is too! I'm the new Chaser on the team because Alicia's hurt her arm while practicing. I feel really sorry for her; she really does love the game. Not that I don't, but I could do without it, I'm not too sure about her, though!    

            Oh, there's also this dance competition that's going to take place on the night of the Halloween Ball, tryouts for the boys were yesterday, and Oliver was amazing, he was definitely the best dancer I have ever seen, and that's saying a lot where I come from.  And I'm not saying that just because I like him or because he's my best friend, if that's what you're thinking. The tryouts for the girls are this evening. Last night after the tryouts, we went to this dance club and I had so much fun. Now you know I'm not following all the rules, not by a long shot! I'll leave the rest to your imagination. 

            Anyway, I must go now, its time for classes. I have Defense against the Dark Arts first, thank god! Professor Lupin makes the classes so much fun! He's really cool, dad and I can see why you two were so close. Though, I regret not being able to meet James, he must have been really cool too!

Love, 

Alison

P.s. I'll meet you at 9:30 tonight, at the same spot as before. If you come early, you can watch me practicing Quidditch with Oliver. So come early, but stay out of sight, for obvious reasons!'

            She rolled up the bit of parchment and handed it to the owl that had been waiting patiently for her as she wrote the letter. The owl took it in his beak and with a flutter a wings, took off with it. Oliver looked at her curiously, wondering whom she had written such a long letter to. Pondering whether or not to ask her, he was suddenly interrupted by a voice that made his blood boil. 

' Aww, how sad, ickle Alicia's hurt her arm, has she? Poor baby! And poor Oliver! Guess who doesn't have a Chaser anymore?'

'Why don't you just take your bullshit, Flint, and stuff it up your fuckin ass!! And just so that you don't go around making any more of a foolish faggot of yourself than you already are, we do have a chaser and a jolly good one too! So I have just one thing to say, Bugger off, you self indulgent son of a bitch!' Flint's face went from white to red and back to white as he floundered in a wave of emotions ranging from white-hot anger to deathly fear. His mouth opened and closed but no words came out. His overall expression struck Alison as hilarious and she burst into laughter. Flint's mouth hardened into a thin, straight line and his next words were spat out of his mouth contemptuously. 'You little bitch! You think you can just come in here, as perfect as you are and expect everyone to like you? Well, I don't, I think you're nothing but a little slt who's asking to get shgged and baby, if you keep askin, I'm gonna give it to you!'

            Alison's face turned white and her eyes blazed. She stood up and walked towards him, and with every step, her eyes flashed more angrily, the fire in them burning like a house in flames. She seemed to grow taller in Flint's eyes and her eyes more fiery as she got closer to him. Before he knew it she was standing so close to him that their noses were almost touching. In a soft voice that chilled him to the bone, she said, 'either you're stupid and you're asking to get your tiny little arse kicked so hard that you crawl on the floor begging for mercy, or you're just plain dumb. Didn't your mom ever tell you not to swear at a woman? Oh, hold on, I forgot, your mother was too busy shgging you to teach you any of the things that a mother should teach a son. But I'll bet she taught you a lot of things that she taught your dad. Or was it the postman? I can't remember.' All of this was delivered in a whisper but everyone at the Gryffindor table could hear it, so deathly was the silence that enveloped the table. At Alison's words, the Gryffindors began to snigger, but stopped as Alison continued her tirade. 'You have no right in hell to call me a slt when your mother was one herself. So don't you ever call me that again.' With that she turned and began to push her way through the crowd that had formed around the two of them. Flint's next words made her freeze. Loudly, and in a sneering voice, he said, 'Btch! Whor…' before he could finish, he felt someone punch him in the stomach with the force of a small sledgehammer at the same time as someone slapped him hard across the face, with a noise that sounded like a gun shot. The combined effect of both sent him spiraling to ground in a daze. Alison looked at Oliver, her gratitude towards him shining in her eyes. Oliver nodded slightly and guided her through the crowd in the Hall and out into the Entrance Hall. As they walked towards their next class, Alison said, 'I want to thank you for punching him in the stomach'. Oliver replied, 'that wasn't a half bad slap either. My head's still ringing from the sound.' He looked at her, tenderness in his eyes and slowly, he opened his arms. Alison tentatively stepped towards him and hugged him tightly as his arms encircled her body. They stayed locked in that embrace for what seemed like ages. In his arms, Alison felt completely protected and all she could think of was Oliver and his strong muscular arms massaging the knots out of her tense back.

            When they got to Defense Against Dark Arts class, Professor Lupin wasn't in the room. In his place stood a scowling greasy haired Snape, a vindictive look in his eyes. As they walked to their seats, he barked, 'you're late! You're always late! If you're late to even one more of my classes, I will personally see to it that 100 points are taken off Gryffindor.'

Alison looked around the empty class pointedly, before saying, 'Firstly, there isn't a single living soul in this room apart from the three of us. So we can't possibly be late, now can we? And more importantly, this isn't even your class! Where's professor Lupin?'

Snape smirked cruelly and said, in a voice as smooth as silk, '20 points from Gryffindor for unnecessary insolence from a bigheaded sixth year. And what are you smirking at, Wood? A further ten points from Gryffindor.' The unfairness struck Alison in the face and she felt that familiar hot rage begin to bubble up within her again. She opened her mouth to protest but before she could say a word, she felt Oliver's hand on her arm, and her anger drained almost instantly. Without a word, she followed Oliver to their table at the back of the classroom. She collapsed into her chair and glared at Snape's turned back. Oliver almost grinned at the scowl on her face but he managed to keep his face straight. In a low voice that barely disguised her annoyance at Snape, she said, 'What the Fck is wrong with that man? He's seriously got some sort of horn up his arse. He is so damn biased against the Slytherins. I'll bet Professor McGonagall isn't half as biased.'

Oliver looked confused and then realization dawned on his face. He replied, 'That's right, you haven't had a class with McGonagall yet. She's really strict. When I was in fifth year, she took 150 points off Gryffindor. We nearly lost the championship!'

'Whoa! That doesn't sound very nice…hopefully she won't completely hate me!'

'Why would she? All the other teachers love you, well most of them any way. And besides, you're probably just as good at Transfiguration as you are at just about everything else. Speaking of which, do we have Muggle studies after lunch?'

'Yeah, do you have your shorts?'

'Yeah…'

'…but?'

'I really do look awful in shorts!'

'Oh, for god's sake Oliver! You sound like a girl sniveling about her fat thighs! People like that really do irritate me! Especially as they're usually the ones who've gone and had plastic surgery done or breast implants or something.'

'And that's another thing I really don't understand about girls, why they get breast implants. I mean, its not like every single guy on earth is a testosterone driven sex addict.'

Alison chuckled to herself and considered giving him the 'boobs on a stick' lecture again, but restrained herself. Instead she said, 'It's probably because of this image that all teen magazines promote that the sexier the girl is, the more popular she will be with the girls. And to tell you the truth, that was certainly the truth in my old school. It's really sad because if something were to go wrong, they'd be scarred for life. '

'I thought you were gonna give me the boobs on a stick lecture again. Thank god you didn't.'

At that moment, the rest of the class filed in and Alison was most indignant at the lack of vindictiveness on the part of Professor Snape about their lateness. She glared at him, before pulling her books out of her book. Snape barked out a few questions as to what the class had been doing and when he got no response, he barked a bit more before throwing his book open on a random page and commanding that all the questions on page 235 to be done and handed in at the end of the lesson. Alison scanned the page and saw to her relief that all the questions were on the unforgivable curses, the less serious curses and how they could be fought. Dipping her quill in the ink, she began to write rapidly. Beside her, Oliver began to do the same. They worked in silence for close to thirty minutes before both of them put down their quills within five minutes of each other. Alison stretched her fingers and massaged her stiff neck. She looked at her watch, which showed that she had only five minutes to go before the bell.  She closed her eyes and smiled at the thought of seeing her father again that night. Oliver noticed the smile and prodded her in the side. Annoyed, Alison said, 'What?' 

'What are you smiling about?'

'Nothing…isn't a girl allowed to smile?'

'What, were you having a fantasy or something?'

This was so close to the truth, Alison was shocked; she had been imagining what it would be like to stay with her father. She shrugged her shoulders dismissively and went back to her fantasy. Oliver watched her hair cascade onto her shoulders with all the grace of a waterfall. He longed to touch her hair, to kiss her softly, to feel her skin press against his. His heart ached to run his fingers down the sides of her face. His thoughts were interrupted by the bell ringing. Alison jumped, a startled look on her face. She looked around, a slightly dazed look on her face, before she pulled herself together. She picked up her parchment and her bag before following Oliver out of the classroom. On the way out, they handed their parchments to Professor Snape. Then they headed for the Transfiguration classroom.      

            As she walked into the classroom, she became aware of the fact that it consisted of seventh years of all four houses, including the person she hated the most in the world, Marcus Flint. When she asked why this was, Oliver said, 'Oh, it's because Transfiguration's so hard and very few seventh years from each house get good enough grades to take it. So they put us all together cuz otherwise it would be a waste of time for Professor McGonagall.' Alison nodded in understanding and they headed for the only vacant desk in the classroom. And it was no surprise to Alison that it was vacant, it was right in front of Marcus Flint's desk. As Alison sat down, she heard him snigger and her blood began to boil. First Potions, now this! Beside Flint sat Palter, one of his cronies. From the laughter she could hear behind her, it was obvious that Flint had commented on something causing Palter to crack up. Just then, Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom and she said, 'Welcome to year seven. I hope you realize that this year is going to be nowhere as easy as last year. And if you found last year difficult, I suggest you transfer to some other class, perhaps a woolier subject along the lines of Divination. Now, we're not going to waste time, we're going to start off right away. Get yourselves hedgehogs from the cage in the corner. By the end of this class, I want to see completely inanimate pincushions lying meekly on the desk. And Palter, if your pincushion tries to spear me with one of its needles like it did last year, I will personally see to it that you are put in detention. As for you, Miss Adams, I would like a word with you. If you could come up to my desk for a few minutes please.' 

Puzzled, Alison walked to the teacher's desk and sat down on the chair beside it. Professor McGonagall peered at her through her glasses and said, 'I hope you realize that this course is not going to be a piece of cake, by any standards, Miss Adams. Despite your highly impressive grades at Transfiguration in your previous school, you will find that this course might just challenge you. It has certainly challenged some of the smartest students to pass through these halls. I expect a high standard of work from you, and if at any moment in time, I find that you are slacking off, I will come down hard on you, harder than I would come down on a lot of other people, because you have the potential to be brilliant. And my name's not Minerva McGonagall if I let that talent and potential go to waste. At the same time, I do not wish for you to be afraid of me, I know I am reputed for having a severe tongue and a short temper, but if you are your father's daughter, you will find a way a round that. Sirius Black was one of my most talented students. It's a pity that a misunderstanding has ruined his life.'

Alison's face went white. In a whisper she said, 'You know who my father is?  

Professor McGonagall gave her one of her rare smiles and said, 'Well, he loved your mother very much and you look just like her, except for your eyes, they're exactly like your dad's. And your dad, as I said before, was possibly one of the best students I have ever had the good fortune of teaching. When I confronted Professor Dumbledore, he told me that what I suspected was indeed true, that you were indeed, the daughter of Sirius Black. 

            When Alison got back to her seat beside Oliver, his hedgehog was almost totally converted to a pincushion. Alison placed her own hedgehog on the table and set to work. Within five minutes, it had been transfigured into a perfectly inanimate pincushion. Oliver glared at her and said, 'You are such a fuckin bitch, I've been sitting here for what seems like an eternity trying to transfigure this thing, and you come along and you do it in barely five minutes.' Oliver let out a sound of great exasperation that sent Alison into spasms of laughter.     

As he watched her laugh, he felt his exasperation melt away and be replaced by a feeling of despair that she would never ever be his. Alison noticed him watching her, and she looked him straight in the eye, and said, 'What are you thinking about, Oliver?' Oliver groaned inwardly and thought to himself, *I'm thinking how gorgeous you are, I'm thinking how amazingly perfect you are, I'm wondering if you will ever be mine! * But out aloud he said, 'I'm thinking about Quidditch', before going back to work. Alison's heart sank, she had been hoping for something completely different. And for that second before he answered, Alison could have sworn that he felt the same way about her that she felt about him. But before she could study that expression, it was gone, just like that, in the twinkling of an eyelash. 

            Behind them, Flint glared at Alison's back, his mind working furiously as to how to hurt her, and hurt her badly, so badly that she would bear the mental scar long after the physical wound he had inflicted had healed. But even though he hated her, he could not help but lust for her. But then, he doubted that any guy who was not gay would not lust after her, however secretly. *Not even Woodie woodpecker* thought Flint bitterly. He didn't love her, but he could not help but feel his hormones stirring as she walked, swaying her narrow hips gracefully. And then it struck him, the perfect way to hurt her, to scar her for life.

            When the bell rang a few minutes later, Alison grabbed her bag and was one of the first ones out of the class. Rushing after her, Oliver panted, 'What the hell is the big hurry for?'

'I haven't played a Muggle sport in so long! I can't wait!'

Together, they headed for the Muggle Studies classroom. When they got there, Professor Agallant was waiting for them wearing shorts and Alison felt a little jerk somewhere in the region of her naval when she saw the toned muscles in his legs. She saw Oliver smirking out of the corner of her eye and she turned her head away. But she knew that she would never hear the end of staring at his legs. She groaned to herself. Just then, she felt someone's hand brush against her neck. Startled, she looked up, only to see Oliver holding up a strand of her hair. He said, 'I think your hair might not like English weather.' Alison scowled at him and turned back to Professor Agallant who had been watching the whole charade with amusement. He said, 'Why don't you two go and change in the changing rooms, the Quidditch changing rooms, just in case either of you think I mean any others that you might know of.' Oliver and Alison chuckled as they walked out. On their way out, they met Angelina and Alicia hurrying up the stairs. When they heard that they were meant to go to the Quidditch Changing rooms, they refused point blank to go all the way up the stairs to the Muggle Studies classroom to be told exactly the same thing. So instead, they followed Oliver and Alison down the stairs to the Quidditch changing rooms. Oliver pulled out his keys to the Changing Rooms and unlocked the doors. Then he strolled in nonchalantly tossing the keys on a chair beside the door that seemed reserved specifically for that purpose. Angelina and Alicia followed him in and headed straight for what Alison assumed to be the girl's changing rooms. Alison walked into the spotless changing rooms, with gleaming walls and a row of about ten huge lockers, which looked large enough to house all of Alison's possessions at Hogwarts. Oliver looked at her and said, 'well? Aren't you going to change?'

'Where's the girl's changing rooms?'

'Well, hmmm, let me think about that one. We just saw Angelina and Alicia walk into the door over there, but that obviously can't be the girls' changing room, cuz they're not girls, right? They're bisexual or something, aren't they? You tell me, you know better!'

Alison punched him hard on the shoulder before stalking off to the changing room, the girls' changing room. Alicia and Angelina were just tying up there hair when Alison entered. Quickly Alison pulled on her shorts under her robes and then pulled her robes off. Alicia and Angelina glanced at her and then looked at each other. Slightly alarmed, Alison asked, 'What the hell is that look supposed to mean?' Angelina said, 'don't worry, we're not lesbians, it's just that Katie, Alicia and I were discussing how you are the perfect woman and then we realized that you might still have a flaw as we hadn't seen your ummm… your figure. But now, that we've seen that, we're convinced that it is totally unfair for you to be so damn perfect. I mean…'

'Oh, for god's sake, I am not perfect! Far from it! I…'

'Oh, yeah? Name one thing that you can't do' challenged Alicia.

'I can't tie a tie, I can't play golf, and…and….and tons of other stuff'

'Two things barely qualifies as tons of stuff! I mean, you're smart, and you're sexy and you're an amazing dancer, the best I've ever seen and you're probably good at sports as well! It is just so unfair!'

'At this point, all the other girls in the class trooped into the changing room. Alison hurriedly pulled on her sleeveless white shirt before joining Alicia and Angelina in front of the mirror. Effortlessly, she swept her hair up in a ponytail, which she deftly secured in place with a black scrunchie. Then she leaned against the cold tiles wall and waited for the other two to 'do' their hair. When they were finally done (after Alicia had tried at least a dozen different hair styles), the three girls left the changing room for the Quidditch field. Once outside, she saw something that made her heart skip with joy, she saw Tennis nets! When the other two saw the smile on her face, they knew that this was certainly not one of the 'tons of things' that Alison couldn't do well. When they got to the net, they saw that they had been anchored down properly. Well, Alison saw that they were anchored down properly. Alicia and Angelina probably wouldn't have been surprised had it been held down by a snarling Hippogriff. Professor Agallant was standing near a rack of tennis rackets and Alison was astonished to see that they were all shiny and clean as if they were new. Alison walked over to the rack and examined a few different rackets until she found one that she liked. She picked it up and did a few practice swings, All this while, the two other girls were watching her, a mixture of puzzlement and irritation on their faces. Professor Agallant, however, seemed more that a little happy. He said, 'So, you've played tennis before, have you, Alison?' 

'Yeah, I played a lot of tennis in Durban. We had this really good court right next to our school and if you went there at night, there was never anyone around.'

'You were allowed off the school premises at night?'

'What the school doesn't know, can't hurt it,' said Alison with a sly smile. 

Professor Agallant laughed heartily, and said, 'well, Ms Adams, let's see how good you are. Come on, now!'

'Is that a challenge, fair sir?'

'It is indeed, m'lady…unless you wish to decline, because you're too…chicken?'

'En guard, Monsieur Agallant!' yelled Alison, brandishing her racket like a sword.  Professor Agallant drew a few balls from his pocket and walked towards the nearest court. Alison followed him while the rest of the girls (the boys weren't there yet) watched in astonishment and bemusement. The professor tossed a couple of balls toward Alison which she caught deftly in the hand that wasn't holding the racket. 'Do you want to play with serves or just warm up first?' asked Professor A, to which Alison replied that she would like to warm up first. So professor Agallant hit a ball across the net at her, which Alison returned with a perfect forehand shot which skimmed over the top of the net and right into the corner of the court, causing professor A to run all the way to the net, to salvage the volley as well as his pride. Miraculously, he managed to get a racket to it, but only succeeded in lobbing the ball up high into the air. Alison's face screwed up with concentration as she smashed the ball right to the back of the court at an impossible angle. Professor Agallant looked at her, astonishment written all over his face. Alison said, 'do you want to serve, or should I?' 

'You serve, I want to see you serve, because if you have as brilliant a service as you do ground strokes, you're a waste of talent in this school, you ought to be playing professionally.'

Alison smiled and as she walked to the baseline, she noticed the boys trooping out of the changing rooms and making their way to the nets. Turning back to the professor, she threw the ball up in the air and then smashed it into the other side for a perfect serve, fast, and more importantly deadly accurate. Before Professor Agallant so much as moved two steps, the ball had whizzed past him. He looked at her, and shook his head in wonder. He said, 'did you even play in tournaments and things like that?'

'I've played in a few, not too many though!'

Professor Agallant shook his head again, before turning towards the rest of the close as if noticing them there for the first time. Sheepishly, he said, 'well, let that be a lesson to all you boys, the best professional tennis player may never be a woman, but as long as you're not a professional, they'll sure as hell be better than you!' The whole class burst out laughing at this very 'profound' and sincerely heartfelt statement from the Professor. When the laughter died down, he continued, 'ok, I want everyone to grab a racket that they feel comfortable with. By comfortable, I mean the right grip size, the right weight, you know, that sort of thing. Then, I want you all to team up with a partner. Once you have carried out those instructions, you will stand at attention until I issue further commands.' Alison said in a loud stage whisper, 'I think he's trying to make up for the masculinity he lost when he played me by being all sergeant-majorish.' The class burst into laughter at this and Professor Agallant just barely managed to keep from laughing out loud. 

            Oliver grabbed Alison's hand and said, 'you're with me, ok?' 

'Oh really, and who exactly are you?'

'Shut up and be serious!'

'Of course I'm with you, Oliver. We are kind of best friends. That generally means that we work together, where I come from anyway! I'm not too sure about you though, do they think the same way on Mars?'

'BTCH!'

'Oh, no! That really wounded me mortally, Oliver and I shall bear the scar of that remark for the rest of my life!'

Oliver smacked her lightly on the head, only to receive an even harder slap on his arm. Trying to keep from wincing, he pointed to the tennis court and said, 'what's with all the white lines? Are we not meant to touch them, or something?'

Alison looked at him like he had come from planet Strange and said, 'I suggest you learn how to hit the ball first, before you even try to learn the rules…they might be a little complicated for your poor Quidditch brain!'

'Hey!! Quidditch needs an awful lot of talent and intellect, unlike all these stupid Muggle sports.'

'Oh, yeah, sure it does! Hmmm, let's see, I have to catch the big red ball, or is it the big black ball or both?', mimicked Alison in an uncanny impression of someone who had been whacked on the head, one too many times by a runaway bludger. 

            They made their way to the nearest court and Alison threw a couple of tennis balls at Oliver. His eyes widened as he saw the fluorescent green orbs flying towards his head, and his 'keeper' instincts kicked in. without thinking, he dropped his racket to the ground and caught the two balls, one in each hand. He looked around to see everyone staring at him. Alison beckoned him towards the net and then leaned over it to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. 'Oliver,' she said, 'one does not generally drop the racket and catch the balls in different hands, one catches them in one hand, while at the same time, keeping hold on the racket.' He scowled at her and said, 'well, I'm sorry I'm not exactly Miss 'Tennis Player of the Year''. 

Alison giggled before turning to walk back to the baseline. Oliver sighed and he muttered, 'Oh lord, please don't let me make a fool of myself…' he trailed off, but a voice inside his head continued, 'especially not in front of Alison'. He shook his head and walked back to the baseline. When he turned around, he saw Alison standing on the other side of the court, hands on her hips, waiting impatiently for him to make his way back to the baseline. Then, while bouncing the ball a couple of times, she said, 'Ok, Oliver, just hit the ball, nice and easy with a flowing motion, and don't stop your stroke. Carry it through until its about the height of your shoulder.' Oliver nodded and Alison hit the ball smoothly over the net as though she had been doing it all her life, which, as Oliver realized, she probably had. As he watched the ball sailing towards him, Oliver felt his mouth go dry and he swallowed hard. His eyes narrowed and he swung the racket, and miraculously, he hit the ball. Hard. And it flew back to Alison. Shocked, she stopped the rally and said, 'I thought you said you've never played before'

'I haven't'

'Well, that was a perfect forehand. It doesn't get better than that. I am so jealous. It took me two weeks to learn how to hit a forehand, but you just played a shot that most people couldn't play after years of training. Do it again.'

Oliver, who was charging up for a good brag, felt his bubble burst, as he realized that the shot had probably only been beginner's luck, and that he would have to do it again if he ever wanted to be able to brag. As he watched the ball skim over the net,     faster and more cleanly than before, his legs tensed and he watched the ball onto his racket before hitting it back into Alison's court cleanly. Alison's mouth dropped open and that told Oliver that his shot had been as good as the previous one, if not better. Professor Agallant rushed over to Oliver with a big grin on his face. 'Was that the first time you've ever played, Wood?' 

'Yeah…'

'Well, that was brilliant! Not quite as good as Miss Adams, of course, but still brilliant! With a bit of training, you might actually be a challenge to her!'

'Hello? I am here! Will you stop talking about me like I'm invisible?' growled Alison.

'Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Adams! Now, I'll let you get back to your game'

Over the next hour, Alison taught Oliver the backhand, the volley and the serve. Much to her amazement and slight annoyance, he picked all of these up as fast as he had picked up the forehand. When Professor Agallant finally called time, Oliver had learnt enough to play an actual game. Before they headed towards the changing rooms to change back into their robes, Professor Agallant said, 'well, the tryouts for the girls is today, and I want to see all of you there today. No exceptions. And next class, we'll be doing tennis again, so don't forget your shorts. Alright, now go change!'

As they made their way towards the changing rooms, Alison wiped the beads of sweat from her forehand and wiped it on her shirt. She turned to talk to Alicia and Angelina on the other side and Oliver couldn't help but admire her toned arms as they glistened with perspiration. He wrenched his eyes away and shook his head. Firmly, he told himself that he would never endanger their friendship by admitting his true feelings to her. For now, he knew there was no point trying to ignore his feelings and pretend that they didn't exist. Every time, he looked at her, he wanted to hold her in his arms, to stroke her hair, to kiss her lips. But he knew that these thoughts were a sin, they were blasphemous to their friendship. But however much he tried; he couldn't keep from thinking them. His thoughts were interrupted by Alison's hand waving in front of his face. From the puzzled look on her face, she had obviously been trying to get his attention for a while now. smiling sheepishly, he said, 'sorry, I was thinking about something. What do you want?'

'I was wondering if we're still on for tonight?'

'Tonight?'

Oliver's mind whirled? Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Did they have a…a date?

'YES, TONIGHT! THE QUIDDITCH! YOU WANTED TO SEE IF I WAS ANY GOOD! REMEMBER?', yelled Alison. 

'Oh, right! Yeah, it's still on.' By then they had reached the changing rooms, and Alison, looked at Oliver before entering the girls' changing room. 'Are you sure you're all right, Oliver? You've been acting a bit weird lately.'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I was…I was just thinking about some Quidditch tactics.' With that, he walked into the boys' changing room. Alison watched the door swing shut behind him before walking into the girls' changing room. 

When she walked in, it was like walking into a steam room. She could barely see an inch in front of her. Cautiously, she walked towards what she hoped was the row of shower cubicles. Sure enough, as she got nearer, she could hear the sound of running water. Squinting, she could make out shapes in all but one of the cubicles. The last cubicle near the end of the row didn't seem to house any inhabitants. Just in case, she knocked on the door before pushing it open. After hanging her towel outside, she stepped into the cubicle, pulled off her clothes, and tossed them over the top of the door, so that they hung there like some sort of surreal washing line on a foggy day. She turned on the water and allowed it to flow down her back, washing away the grime. She rubbed the soap over her body and then lathered some shampoo into her hair. Despite the availability of millions of magical shampoos, she still preferred her Muggle shampoos. They reminded her of her mother. Ever since she could remember, her mother had tried to convince her that while magic could make your life so much easier, there were two things where the ordinary, old fashioned Muggle way of life was so much better: shampoo and love. Alison had always loved it when her mother had told her how her father and her had met at Hogwarts. The story was like a fairytale, he saw her, she saw him, and they fell in love at first sight. He proposed to her on a moonlit night, the stars twinkling above them like the approving eyes of all the people who had died and gone to heaven. Alison sighed. Thinking about her mother always made her feel so alone. Quickly, she washed the shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water. She grabbed for her towel and began to towel herself off vigorously.                                                                                                                

When she stepped out, she found that most of the steam had cleared away and most of the girls were changing back into their robes. Alison began to do the same, and then joined Alicia and Angelina in front of the mirror. She pulled her wand out of her bag and pointing it at her hair, she muttered a few words under her breath. Instantly, her hair was dry. Caroline Becker, the girl standing on the other side of her said, 'gosh, that's certainly a handy charm. I'm Caroline, by the way. No need for you to introduce yourself, though. Pretty much everyone in Gryffindor, and all the other houses, for that matter, knows who you are.'

'Umm…they do?'

'Yeah, I mean, you're only the girl that all our boyfriends think is so hot. It's part of our defensive instincts to know who our boyfriends might fancy more than us. But, you're not quite what like I thought you might be. I mean, I thought you'd be totally self absorbed and stuck up. I know I would if I looked even half as good as you'

'Oh, god, not again!'

'She had to listen to us grumble about how perfect she is earlier' explained Angelina to Caroline. 'I think she might be a little sick of it'

'You think? I mean, don't you think you guys are going a little overboard with all the compliments?' said Alison in voice that did nothing to mask her irritation. The other girls started laughing at the irritation on her face. They thought it was absolutely hilarious that Alison thought they were going overboard with their 'compliments'. They all knew that she was the most perfect girl they had ever seen. And although they all accepted this, on the inside, each and every one of them burned with jealousy, a jealousy so bitter, and yet so harmless. For hand in hand with this jealousy burned a respect, and the power of that respect soothed the cold green flames of jealousy. 

*****

Oliver stepped into the changing room, and inattentive to the clouds of steam billowing from the shower cubicles, he headed for one that was empty. He slung his towel over the top of the door and then looked around to check that there was soap. He spotted the tiny sliver of white soap in the corner and sighed. No one seemed to understand the concept of replacing soap when it was almost finished. It was no wonder girls considered them savages. He pulled off his grimy shirt and then his shorts. His skin glistened with sweat and a sudden gust of wind made him shiver. Quickly he turned on the water and a jet of hot water scalded his skin. He twisted the knob so that the shower didn't take his skin right off and then stepped back under it. As he washed himself, he thanked his stars that he hadn't said anything stupid earlier. When Alison had asked his if they were on for that night, for a tiny second, he had let himself peek into a room where it would not be so insanely immoral for him to ask her out. But before he could even look around this room, the door was slammed in his face and the key turned. Any ray of hope was lost. As their friendship grew stronger, the chasm that would separate them should they become lovers widened and became more menacing. 

Five minutes later, he had showered and changed. He stuffed his clothes into his bag and then stepped out of the changing room to wait for Alison. For although he had decided for what seemed like the hundredth time that he would try not to imagine Alison lying in his arms, he was still her best friend. When Alison finally walked out fifteen minutes later, Oliver smiled and said, 'tennis wasn't so hard. I don't know why people make such a big deal of it! I mean, I'm almost as good as you and this was my first time.' When he saw Alison's face darken, he stopped and mumbled his apology. At once, Alison's face brightened and she said, 'hey, forget it, Oliver! But damn, you WERE good!'

When they entered the Great Hall, Katie, George, Fred and Lee were already there. When Alison slipped into the seat next to Oliver, she saw Harry staring at her out of the corner of her eye. She looked up and saw that he was wearing a slightly strange expression on his face, rather like a strangled rooster. Then she noticed that Ron and Hermione had the same expression. Worried, she put her hand to her face to check that there wasn't anything gruesome crawling over her skin. When she found nothing, she checked her hair, and when she still couldn't find anything, she looked right at Harry and mouthed, 'WHAT?' 

Harry's eyes widened and he looked down at his untouched plate of mashed potatoes. A few seconds later, he glanced at Alison again, only to find her eyes boring into the back of his neck. He sighed and whispered something to Ron who in turn whispered this little anecdote to Hermione. Hermione shook her head vehemently but Harry's mind seemed made up. He beckoned for her to follow her out of the Hall and as she got up, Oliver caught her hand and said, 'where are you going now? You haven't eaten any lunch at all!'

'Something's eating Harry, and I think maybe he wants to talk to me about it. I'll be back in a few minutes.' With that, she followed Harry out of the Great Hall. Together, they walked into the grounds and Harry headed for the lake. Alison felt a sudden foreboding and her muscles tensed up. Harry stopped at the edge of the lake and looked out over the calm blue surface. He took a deep breath and then said, 'I know who you are, Alison. And I don't know how I didn't recognize those eyes before.'

'How… what…you know who I am? How?'

'Ron, Hermione and I went to visit Sirius…your dad and…'

'And? And what, Harry?'

Harry took another deep breath and then said, 'well, we were in his cave, which is where he lives when he's in this part of the world. He had gone out to try and scrounge around for a newspaper because we had forgotten to bring him one. We were just sitting around when I found a photograph on the floor, a photograph of a woman who looked remarkably like you. We were staring at the picture, trying to make sense of what we were seeing, when Sirius walked in. We didn't notice that he had returned. He walked over to us and looked over my shoulder at the photograph. When I felt his breath on my neck, I turned around and I saw him standing there. But he wasn't angry, not even a little. He said, 'that's my wife, Stephanie. She died when my daughter was two and a half years old, right after I was convicted and put in Azkaban.' And he smiled as he saw the realization dawn on our faces, that you were his daughter. I thought I knew him but today I realized, how little I actually know about him. I mean, he has a daughter, and I didn't even know he was married.'

'He didn't marry my mother. They were going to get married after I was born, but after I was born, they had a fight, and I guess, they just decided it wasn't such a good idea after all.'

'God, I thought I had lost a lot, my parents dieing and all, but you lost just as much as me…'

'How's that?'

'Well, it's true that both my parents are died, but they died in dignity, and they're respected by every witch and wizard of this age, and probably for centuries to come. But Sirius, he…everyone hates him. Ron's brother Percy absolutely hates him cuz he got away from the Ministry of Magic. The whole wizarding world blames him for the murder of those twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew. And I don't think anyone will ever be able to clear him of that. And yet, he was as much in the right as my parents. I think it's worse to have your father alive and hated, than dead and respected. '

Alison found her eyes filling with tears as she listened to Harry. In those few minutes, he grew in her eyes from the small boy she had perceived him to be to a grown man, a man she could respect. In retrospect, Alison thought, 'Jesus, if his father was half the man he was, then I can tell why my father loved and respected James Potter as much as he did. I can see why they were best friends.'

Harry looked up to see Alison's eyes filling with tears, and the alarm that he felt at having made her cry must have shown on his face for Alison walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. A little startled, Harry patted her consolingly on the top of her head. It was a measure of how much he had grown that he could actually reach the top of her head as she stood at an impressive five foot eight inches. A few seconds later, Alison pulled away from Harry and said, 'so, are you going to see him tonight?'

'Heck, no, I wouldn't want to interfere with your time together. He really loves you. After we found the picture, all he could talk about was you.'

'Really? What did he say?' asked Alison with a slight grin. 

'Nothing juicy. Nothing about how bad you were in your old school', said Harry, his emerald green eyes twinkling with sudden mischief. 'Oh, but he did want to know what Oliver was like…he said you were always talking about him.' At this, Harry gave her a knowing smile and Alison blushed and looked down at the ground. Harry said, 'Don't worry, I told Sirius that he was well worth your hand.' 

'Shit, you stupid fuck! I can't believe you said that!'

'Hey, it seemed to me that he knew what you felt about Oliver, so I just decided to give him my honest, not to mention completely unbiased opinion.' 

Alison thought that this thing had gone way too far and she said in a would-be innocent voice, 'of course dad knows that Oliver's my best friend. I mean, he is my dad!'

'Don't worry! I wont tell Oliver…or Ron, or Hermione, if you don't want me to.'

'You'd better not, or I might just decide to let slip to a certain Chinese girl in Ravenclaw how you feel about her.'

It was now Harry's turn to feign innocence. 'Chinese girl? What Chinese girl? I don't know any Chinese girl, especially not one in Ravenclaw.'

'Oh, really? Then I suppose the name Cho doesn't ring any bells!'

'I don't…oh, fuck it! How did you know?'

'Hey, I would've thought it was pretty obvious. I mean, you only stare at her every time she walks into the Hall!'

'I don't! I might look up once in a while and by some coincidence, I might look up at the precise moment when she walks in!' 

'Yeah, whatever, Harry!'

Harry began to blush furiously and unfortunately for him, he, unlike Alison, didn't have the advantage of dark skin to hide the flush in his cheeks.

'So, you keep my secret, and I'll keep yours, scar boy!'

'Deal!', said Harry, in relief. 'Alison, if your dad is my godfather and my dad is…was you godfather, then aren't we kind of like god siblings?'

'I'm not too sure that there is such a thing, but if you want, we could be god siblings! You know, I think, it might be fun, I always wanted a brother.'

'I always wanted an elder sister'

'Why?'

'Cuz now you can introduce me to all your hot friends and set me up with them!'

Alison burst out laughing and put her arm around him. Still laughing, they walked up to the Castle and into the Great Hall. Alison slid into her seat beside Oliver and Harry into his seat between Ron and Hermione. Oliver looked at Alison and then said, 'What the hell was that about?' Alison winked at Harry before saying, 'Sorry, Oliver, confidential business. Harry needed some help with a girl' 

'Oh, he did, did he?' said Oliver. At this point George interrupted and said, 'so, who's the lucky girl, Potter? Anyone we know?'

'Is it Parvati? Or is it Lavender' queried Fred in an inquisitive tone. Worried that Harry might forget his end of the bargain in the wake of all this mockery, Alison jumped in and said, 'Oh, for god's sake, can't a guy have a crush on a girl without the rest of you trying to find out who it is? Honestly!' Then, staring pointedly at George and Alicia, she continued, 'I mean, did Harry ask you how you got that hickey, Alicia? Or who gave it to you, for that matter? No, he didn't! So I suggest that all of you keep your mouths shut and let Harry fantasize in peace!' All the rest burst out laughing at this very indignant Alison, but Oliver couldn't help but think that there was something that his best friend was not quite being straight with him about. Little did he know!

*****

After a trying Potions class when just about everything seemed to go wrong for Alison, she headed for the Gryffindor Common room to change for the dance try outs. That Potions lesson had to have been the worst ever. First, the labels on Alison's ingredients were mysteriously switched, though according to Oliver, Marcus Flint had been looking particularly pleased with himself when Professor Snape used Alison's potion as an example of what not to do. Then, the contents of her cauldron mysteriously bubbled over and covered the entire room. After a further lecture from the great Professor, Alison looked in her cauldron and found the charred remains of a firecracker. Although Oliver urged her to show it to Snape, she was too exhausted from cleaning up the mess to face another speech on trying to shift the blame, one that she had already heard on numerous occasions from Professor Snape. As she changed into a pair of jeans, she sighed. It was as though Professor Snape could tell whose daughter she was. Her father had told her all about their mutual hatred for each other, and Alison couldn't help but thank her stars that she wasn't James Potter's daughter. No, she was just his goddaughter. She chuckled to herself at the thought of being god siblings with Harry Potter. Just then, there came a knock on the door. Oliver stuck his head in and said, 'It's time. The other girls are waiting downstairs.'

Alison took a deep breath and walked purposefully towards the door. The soles of her sports shoes thudded against the cold floor. The mounting apprehension must have shown on her face for Oliver smiled and said, 'Now you know how I felt yesterday.' Alison giggled. Between giggles, she managed to say, 'I don't know why I'm so nervous. I mean, it's not even that big a deal.' But as she said that, she knew she was lying to herself. Professor Agallant had told them that the top male and female dancers would form the couple for the couple prepared beforehand category as well as the spontaneous category for the same number of people. Oliver had been chosen as the best male dancer. And Alison knew that it would kill her to watch him dance with someone else, to watch him put his hand on some other girl's waist. That would be torture, pure and simple. She had to win, and that decision strengthened her resolve. The butterflies that had been beating their wings against the lining of her stomach disappeared instantaneously and a determined look came over her face. Silently, she nodded at Alicia, Angelina and Katie who had been waiting at the foot of the stairs for her. 

When the group entered the Muggle Studies classroom, it was jam packed with students, not just from Gryffindor, but also from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and even Slytherin. As Alison looked around, she saw a face that made her want to turn and run from the room, she saw the sneering face of Marcus Flint. But she stopped herself, and walked determinedly towards the Professor. After she, and the other three girls had signed up, they joined the boys in the pulsing crowd. Alison felt a hand on her shoulder and dreading whom she might see, she turned around. 

Harry smiled at the expression on her face, and said, 'Good Luck!' then in an undertone, he whispered, '…sis' Alison smiled back and said, 'What the hell are you doing here? Is Hermione trying out?'

'Hell, no! Can you imagine Hermione trying out for a dance competition?'

Before Alison could respond, Hermione's voice broke in, and she didn't sound too pleased. 'And why not, might I ask? Am I not graceful enough to be in a dance competition?' Alison sniggered and said, 'You've made your bed, Harry, now you have to lie in it!' 

Just then, Professor Agallant called for silence and what ensued, if not complete silence, certainly was a significant drop in the noise levels. The professor then proceeded to outline the rules and how the contestants were to be judged on the basis of the applause they received after their performance. Finally, after five minutes, during which the crowd began to get a little restless, he proclaimed in a would-be commentator like voice, 'Let the Games Begin!' This proclamation was followed by a huge cheer, one that would have put the audience in a Wembley Stadium to shame. 

Professor Agallant stepped back and turned the knob on the stereo system. The strains of 'Wherever you will go' by the Calling floated out of the speakers. Over the music, Professor Agallant called, 'Alicia Spinnet, if you would do us the honour!' Alicia stepped onto the floor and proceeded to dance like a woman possessed. Alison was most impressed. She hadn't thought Alicia could dance like that. Beside Oliver, George jumped up and down, cheering at the top of his lungs for his girlfriend. When she finished and the last chord was played, the crowd applauded her long and loud. Grinning widely, she curtsied several times to the crowd, before jumping into her boyfriend's arms. As the time went by, Angelina was called, followed immediately by Katie. Both did extremely well, much to the delight of their respective boyfriends. The crowd grew noisier and more boisterous as one girl in sixth year performed a highly technical dance. Although she was very capable, Alison doubted that the girl would be selected on the basis of the fact that although very demonstrative of her capabilities, her performance simply wasn't very pleasing to the eye. Finally, everyone had gone, everyone except for Alison. Alison's palms began to sweat as Professor Agallant raised the mike to his lips to call out the final contestant. Blindly, she walked towards the dance floor and stood there, dumbly until the music started to filter out of the speakers. The moment she heard the first chords, she forgot everything. She forgot how nervous she was, she forgot the mice playing hide and seek in her stomach, and most importantly, she forgot how much was riding on this performance. Oblivious to everyone else, she began to sway to the beat of one of her favourite songs, 'All Rise' from Blue. As she danced, her hips swaying to the music, the crowd went berserk. When the rap section began, Alison launched into a series of flips and spins that even she wouldn't have believed that she could do. The whole crowd fell silent as they watched her twist and turn. The girls burned with jealousy and not surprisingly, respect, and the guys…they just burned with lust. Cedric Diggory stood in the crowd, watching her, as though in a trance. A girl had never turned him down, not until Alison Adams came along. But as he watched her, he knew that this girl was too good for him, from the way she did her hair, the way she laughed when something tickled her funny bone, to her attitude. Before her, Cedric had believed himself to be invincible, but she showed him all of his weak spots. 

Further back in the crowd, Marcus Flint's brain was temporarily oblivious to the fact that this was the girl that he hated. All he could see was a perfect body, one that every bone, every muscle, every cell in his body longed to caress. And this was probably the most dangerous thing Alison could ever have done. For Marcus Flint hated her. He would do

anything to hurt her. But at the same time, he lusted for her, and the two emotions, lust and hatred, made a deadly combination, as Alison was soon to discover. 

When the song finally ended and Alison came to her senses, she saw the whole crowd jumping up and down, yelling for more. Overcome by fatigue, she acknowledged the crowd's applause before walking towards Oliver and resting her head against his chest. She knew that this gesture would lead to a lot of speculation but at that point she really didn't care. All she wanted was to feel Oliver's arms around her. Sure enough, he stroked her back and only let go when professor Agallant called for silence again. 

'Well, like yesterday, it seems that there is no contests at all as to who the best female dancer is. And yet again, I think it is the unanimous decision of the panel that the winner is undoubtedly the best any of us has ever seen. All I can say is, Congratulations Miss Adams.' Alison grinned and pumped her fist in the air. 'The other dancers who have also been chosen are as follows: Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Brown and Katie Bell! Well done to all of you! A word to the wise…it might be a good idea to start practicing soon. The ball is only a month and a half away. Once again, let me remind you that the attire for the ball is to be formal. That is tuxedoes for the men and gowns for the ladies. Good night, and Congratulations again to the winners.'

For about fifteen minutes after this little speech by the professor, Alison was congratulated by students, guys and girls alike, from all four houses. Most surprisingly, Marcus Flint came up to her and said, 'That was some dance, Adams' Needless to say, Alison was flabbergasted at this compliment and simply gaped wordlessly at him. With a chuckle, he disappeared and Alison wondered if maybe there was even the slightest possibility of him being a nice person. But all the while, Oliver glared at him and wondered why the hell he was being so damn nice all of a sudden. This sudden change in attitude, which seemed to Alison like a bid for friendship, seemed to Oliver like the vibrantly coloured tentacles of a poisonous sea anemone attracting its prey. And much to Oliver's display, Alison seemed to be falling for this act. 

*****

Darkness was falling as Alison and Oliver made their way to the Quidditch pitch, both of them gripping their broomsticks tightly. As they walked towards the pitch, Alison suddenly stopped in her tracks. In the bushes just beyond the path, she could just make out a shape of a huge animal. Cautiously she continued to walk along the path, a few paces behind Oliver. As she drew closer, she saw a pair of eyes watching her, eyes that belonged to a large, black, shaggy dog. She chuckled to herself as she walked past the bushes where the dog lay hidden. 'One thing about dad,' she mused, 'he's always there when I need him.' Oliver turned around at the sound of her chuckle and looked enquiringly at her. 'What're you chuckling about?' 

'Nothing…nothing at all, Oliver'

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Alison thanking her stars that her father was around. Being all alone with Oliver in a moonlit Quidditch pitch, given her present feelings about Oliver, did not seem like the wisest thing to do. The knowledge that her father was around just might prevent her from acting on her emotions. As the Quidditch pitch opened up before them, Alison's heartbeat began to speed up. She gripped her Firebolt tightly; the smooth, familiar sensation of wood beneath her fingers reassured her. She had not held her broomstick since that fateful day when she had been raped. She had locked her broomstick away in her trunk and covered it with her oldest clothes. When she had uncovered her broomstick earlier that day, it had actually been dusty. Back when she had loved Quidditch almost as much as Oliver, her broomstick had been her most prized possession. As she pulled the broomstick from its resting place amongst her socks, a wave of nostalgia swept over her and for a few seconds, she stood as if paralyzed recalling her ecstasy at receiving this particular broomstick in the mail less than two days after the previous one broke. 

Oliver's hand on her shoulder jolted her back to the present. She looked over at Oliver who was watching her with an expectant look on his face. With a deep breath, Alison mounted her Firebolt and kicked off from the ground. As she rose into the sky, all those forgotten sensations came flooding back into her head. The wind whipped through her hair as the ground grew further and further away. In that instant, any apprehension Alison had been feeling vanished and it was replaced by the long forgotten feeling of exhilaration. Her Firebolt turned at her lightest touch and after she had reacquainted herself with her broomstick, she hovered a few hundred feet above the pitch and then with a suddenness that was startling, she dived towards the ground, her broomstick accelerating by the second. Less than a foot from the ground, she pulled out of the dive before zooming around the pitch getting higher and higher with each circle she made of the ground.

Finally she came to a rest next to the three hoops at one end of the pitch. Oliver had retired to this particular vantage point to watch her perform. When she stopped about three feet away from him, his face was a blank. Her heart pounding, she stared at his blank face and wondered what he was thinking and more importantly whether or not he was impressed with her cameo performance. The hint of a smile on his face slowed her racing heart and although all he said was, 'You'll do', she knew that he was secretly impressed. He made his way to the changing rooms and beckoned for Alison to follow him. He pushed open the door to the boys' changing room and walked in. When he found that Alison had not followed him in, he stopped and said,' Alison, this century would be nice!'

' You want me to go in the boys' room?' 

'Yes! I swear there aren't any naked males in there, so what's the big deal? And even if there are, I doubt they would be waiting to fuck you, so get a move on!'

Meekly, Alison followed him into the boys' changing room and was astonished by how spotless the floor was. She had imagined a dark, dingy place with puddles of mud on the floor. She saw Oliver rummaging in a cupboard in the far side of the room and she walked over to see what he was trying to do. As she bent over him, he said, 'Aha' triumphantly and pulled an old battered looking basketball from the cupboard. Standing up, he tossed it at her before walking back out to the Quidditch Pitch. He gestured for her to get on the broom and begin to fly. He, too, mounted his broom and began to circle the hoops. Instantly, Alison realized what she had to do. She flew around the pitch a couple of times, the old basketball tucked under one hand, and then, as she neared Oliver, she hurled the basketball at the furthest hoop. Oliver had been expecting her to try for one of the closer hoops and hence, she caught him unawares. The ball flew right through the hoop and Alison chuckled to herself at the expression of disbelief on Oliver's face. With a jerk of his head, he said, 'Talk about A fluke. I'll bet you can't do it again!' Alison retrieved the ball then hurled it at one of the hoops again. This time, she caught Oliver going the other way. As the ball sailed through the hoop, Alison said, 'Well, whaddaya think cap'n, good enough for you? Or would you like me to get a few more shots in before you deem me worthy enough to obtain a much coveted position on your prestigious Quidditch team?' by this time, she had drawn so close to Oliver that their noses were almost touching. He could see the challenge in her eyes and feel her peppermint fresh breath on his face. His legs knocked against hers but neither seemed to notice. Despite the knowledge that her father was watching, she couldn't keep herself from doing what she did next. She lifted her hand off her own broomstick and placed it on Oliver's thigh. Oliver put his hands around her waist and lifted her off her own broomstick and onto his. Alison's Firebolt had an anti-crash charm built into it and so, instead of falling to the ground, it lowered itself to within two feet of the ground and hovered there. Alison's mind was spinning as Oliver lifted her onto his broomstick. All thoughts of her father were driven to the back of her head. Oliver removed one hand from her waist but before she could protest, he placed his finger on her lips to shush her. Then, slowly, he removed his finger from her lips and let it drift to her nose and then her eyes. Her skin was softer than he had ever imagined and as he caressed her high cheekbones, he heard Alison murmur, 'Oh, God, Oliver… we shouldn't be doing this, you know we shouldn't. She opened her eyes and placed her palm on his flat, strong chest before pushing him away gently. Oliver pulled away from her abruptly placed both his hands firmly on the broomstick, as though he didn't trust them not to do what they wanted. He lowered the broomstick to the ground and both of them hopped off. Alison picked up her Firebolt and together, they began to walk towards the school building. Suddenly, Alison heard a rustling in the bushes behind her and a familiar voice saying, 'Have you forgotten about your old man already?' Alison grimaced and when Oliver turned around, he gasped and yelled, 'Oh, fck! What the fck are you doing here? Get behind me, Alison! He's gonna have to kill me before he can get to you!' Oliver pulled his wand from his shirt pocket and brandished it as though it were a sword. Sirius smiled and said, 'Well, well, you must be Oliver. My daughter's told me all about you. Hi, honey! You were supposed to meet me, or did you forget?' Oliver watched in horror as Alison strolled out from behind him and walked right into the open arms of Sirius Black. His terror turned to anger at being betrayed and he yelled, 'God damn it, Alison. Just when I think I know you, I find out your father's a convict. If you weren't my best friend, I'd go straight to Dumbledore and tell him that the most wanted man in the country, hell, even in the world, is walking around the grounds, hand in hand with the school's brightest future prospect! Seems like we have a future Voldemort in the making…'. He stopped abruptly and reeled backwards as Alison slapped him sharply across the face. He put his palm gingerly to his smarting and fast-turning-red cheek before saying, in a low voice,' I'll wait for you in the common room. If you're not there in fifteen minutes, with a jolly good explanation, I'm going to Dumbledore, friends or not!' With that he turned on his heel and stomped off towards the castle. Alison stared after his retreating back and wondered how things could go so wrong so fast. She turned around and glared at her father, before saying in a voice that betrayed no emotion, ' Why did you do that dad? Why couldn't you just wait? Even if I had forgotten, which certainly wasn't the case, even if I had, you had no right in hell to jump out like that. That,' and she pointed in the direction Oliver had stomped off in, ' that was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.' With a slight smile, Sirius said, ' Then shouldn't he know who your father is and who he's dealing with? Wouldn't that only be fair to the poor guy? To know who you are? I could see you loved him and I figured that there were two things acting as a dam restricting the flow of your emotions: the chance that you might ruin the best friendship you ever had, and….'

'And what, dad?'

' And me…'

This was followed by a startled silence as Alison digested what her father had just said and she realized that what he had said was true. Some part of her subconscious did indeed fear rejection on the basis of her origins.

She was jolted from her reverie by her father saying, ' Alison, you need to realize that the reason I did that was to make it easier for you to give in to your emotions. The look on your face tells me that my hunch was spot on, that I was one of the reasons behind you being so uptight. Hopefully by showing Oliver who you are, I'm protecting you from further heartbreak somewhere down the line. I saw what happened on the Quidditch pitch today and I suggest that you leave me here and go talk to Oliver. If I were him I know that I would want a jolly good explanation right about now, though it might not completely soothe the sting caused by your lie not to mention that slap.'

'I didn't lie, I just didn't tell him the whole truth…'

' Which you know as well as I do is just as bad. So go on, go talk to Mr. Wood. Oh, and a word to the wise, you don't swear in front of your girlfriend's father.' Alison hugged her father and kissed him on the cheek, before taking off at a sprint towards the castle. Sirius watched her retreating back and sighed, 'This new generation, they make everything so damn complicated, when it's really just as simple as ABC.'

*****

Oliver stomped into the common room, his blood boiling. He couldn't believe that Alison had lied to him and then as though to rub salt into a gaping wound, she had slapped him. He could not believe that Alison Adams was in actuality, Alison Black, the daughter of a convict, but not just any convict, the coldest killer since Lord Voldemort himself. He wondered how Sirius had been getting into the grounds, and no sooner had he asked the question than the answer hit him like a hammer crashing onto his skull. Remus Lupin. That would explain why Alison had met Professor Lupin at lunch. Oliver remembered his father telling him how Sirius black, Remus Lupin, James potter and peter pettigrew had been the best of friends at Hogwarts.  Oliver wondered if Harry knew if Sirius Black was back. Oliver had been so engrossed in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized how empty the common room was. He walked up the stairs to his dorm and shoved open the door. The door slammed into the stonewall with a resounding crash. Startled, he looked around the room and a bright pink paper glued to his mirror caught his eye. He pulled it off and looked around, wondering for the first time where everyone else was. A bit puzzled, he looked down at the note, which read:

'Dear Oliver, 

George, lee and I have gone to the Jungle Gym. When Quidditch practice finishes, ask Alison if she has any way of getting here without the Transporta-Cube. If not, then don't wait up for us; we'll probably be late.

Your bud, 

Fred

P.s. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are with us so don't bother looking for them. Hope Alison got on the team.'

Oliver laughed at the last part of the note. Not only was Alison good enough to get on the team, she was goon enough to keep Alicia off it for as long as she wanted. Fortunately for Alicia, Alison was graduating at the end of the year with Oliver and the rest of the year sevens. Professor McGonagall had decided on this about a week ago as Alison was in all of the extended classes and excelling in each one. There was no point in keeping her back for an extra year. The thought of Alison filled Oliver with anger, anger at being lied to, anger at being betrayed. But as the seconds ticked by to become minutes, his anger faded away and was replaced by hurt. He walked back into the common room and flopped down in one of the armchairs facing the fire. Casually, he glanced down at his watch and realized with a start that it had been more than twenty minutes since the 'confrontation'. He jumped up from his chair and dusted off his pants but before he could take more than a few steps towards the portrait hole, it burst open and Alison hauled herself through it. From the way she was sweating, Oliver could tell that she had sprinted the whole way. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited for Alison to catch her breath. He didn't have too long to wait. After about thirty seconds, Alison straightened up and said, 'I owe you an explanation, don't I?' She glanced up at Oliver and seeing the stony expression on his face, ploughed on with the carefully prepared explanation that she had thought up on the way here. 'I swear to you, Oliver, my father is completely innocent. He didn't kill any Muggles, he didn't kill peter pettigrew. It was just a whole misunderstanding and I know that it must sound like he's put some sort of Confundus charm on me to scramble my brain, but its true. My father never killed anyone; he would never do something like that. I can't tell you the whole story and that's only because the story is not mine to tell. I just need you to trust me on this. If ever you are going to trust me on anything, ever again, this would be a good one. I would never lie to you, Oliver, I may not tell the whole truth, but I wouldn't tell an outright lie. If I wanted to do that, don't you think I'm smart enough to concoct some story about how…how Sirius isn't really my dad, or that that wasn't really Sirius? Please, Oliver? My father's fate now rests squarely in your hands. I've lost my father once before, please don't let me lose him again.' During this little speech, Oliver's face remained stony, his eyes cold, making Alison feel as though she were being evaluated. Then, slowly, the hint of a smile crossed his lips and spread to the rest of his face. He cocked his head and said, 'well, the option of making you suffer is, indeed very tempting, but when you ask so sweetly, how could I possibly refuse. I promise I wont tell a soul. But Alison, does Dumbledore know that Sirius is around?'

With a slightly shady look, she muttered, 'Yes, he does and so does Harry, before you ask. And no, Harry is not worried about it as he was one of the people who helped my father to escape, he trusts my father as much as I do!'

'And let me guess, Ron and Hermione helped him too! Right?'

'Ummm…yeah, they kind of did, so they know about my dad too. And you've probably figured out that Professor Lupin knows too. And they all trust my father; they would trust him with their lives. So, where're all the rest?'

' Well, my roomies, and their girlfriends have gone to the Jungle Gym…'

At this point, the portrait hole swung open and all the Gryffindors came pouring into the Common Room.  One of Oliver's classmates, Dave, said, 'Hey, where were you two? You missed dinner and it was especially splendid today!' 

Alison grinned at him and grabbed Oliver's hand. 'C'mon, Ollie, let's go see if these animals left anything at all for us to eat!' She pretty much dragged him out of the Common Room, though as Dave remarked to the boy standing next to him, he wouldn't complain about a girl like Alison dragging him anywhere. 

When they got to the Great Hall, it was empty with the exception of a few teachers. Alison and Oliver sat down at the Gryffindor table and instantly, food appeared on the plates before them. 

*****

The next day, Alison was woken by a pounding on the door of the dorm. Groggily, she peeked out from under her blanket, to find that it was still dark outside. Groaning, she pulled the blanket over her head and then buried it under her pillow. But as the pounding grew increasingly insistent, even Alison could not ignore it. Muttering sinisterly, Alison rolled out of bed, blanket and all and padded across the room. She yanked open the door and was about to toss her pillow at Oliver when she froze at the sight of him. He was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a fluffy bath towel around his waist and a pair of bathroom sandals that would have looked less conspicuous on a three-year-old girl. His body glistened wet from a bath and tiny drops of water were splattered across his chest. His normally neat hair was spiked up by the water. He looked gorgeous, an incarnation of a sex-god! All Alison could say was, 'we're awake. Now go put some clothes on!' With that, she closed the door on his face and walked into the bathroom. As she splashed water on her face, she was joined by the other three girls. Alison wiped her face and walked back out to the dorm, where she proceeded to change.  When she was done, she sat on her bed, pulling on her shoes as the rest changed. Alicia said, 'God, if Oliver looked like that more often, he would have the entire female population of this school fawning over him, whether or not he liked it. He has got the greatest bod! Don't you think so, Alison?' thanking her stars that her relatively dark skin didn't glow red when she was embarrassed, Alison said, 'Yeah, well, you know, he's Oliver.' As she said this, she saw a look pass between the other three girls and instantly, she knew what was going on. They were trying to get Oliver and her together, as a couple. Little did they know that with their present attraction for each other, the last thing they needed was a little help. 

Fred, George and Harry joined Oliver in the Common Room. From the way Fred and George kept rubbing their eyes, Oliver could tell that they had had a very late night. Harry, on the other hand, kept winking at Oliver. Alarmed by this rather homosexual behavior, Oliver caught hold of Harry's collar and said, 'what the hell are you winking at me for? Are you gay or something?'

'Urghh, no! And even if I was gay, do you actually believe that I would fancy you? You should be so lucky! I was winking because I saw that thing with Sirius and Alison last night…'

'How the hell? What the fck were you doing there?'

'I was hiding behind the bushes. I wanted to talk to Sirius after Alison was done. But it's a good thing you found out when you did. I wouldn't want to marry my girlfriend and then find out that her father was an escaped convict…'

Oliver's face hardened and his eyes narrowed. In a deathly whisper, he asked, 'Girlfriend?? Is that what you think Alison is to me? A girlfriend?'

'Yes, I mean, no…no, of course not! Why on earth would I think that?' Luckily for Harry, he was saved from further assault by the arrival of the girls. They all trooped down the stairs, looking equally exhausted. As Alison flopped down in the chair beside Oliver, all the latter could do was glare at a very flustered Harry. 

When they got to the Quidditch pitch, Alison mounted her broom and kicked off from the ground. In quick succession, all the rest did the same, with the exception of Alicia who had injured her arm. Alison began to fly around the pitch, when she realized that the rest of the team was hovering in the center of the pitch, waiting for her. Sheepishly, Alison joined them and listened quietly to Oliver's detailed instructions. She noticed Fred's head beginning to droop and his eyes starting to close. Oliver, oblivious to Fred's obvious distress, continued enthusiastically and mentally, Alison marveled at his energy. Finally, about fifteen minutes after he had started, Oliver looked around at his team. When he saw the dazed expressions on most of their faces, he gave up and said, 'alright, I want all of you to warm up for about twenty minutes and then do a few drills. Chasers work with me, beaters try and hit the moving target as many times as possible in five minutes; I want a list of your ten best scores at the end of this session. Harry, you work with Alicia. Just get her to throw a few golf balls around and try to catch them. I want a caught/miss percentage at the end of practice and it had better be above seventy five. After an hour of that, we'll go through some of the formations that I just talked about this morning. That should take a total of two hours, and if it doesn't, then I think it would be safe to say that we're missing something out! Everybody clear on what they have to do?' Without waiting for an answer, he continued, 'Fred, George, Angie, Katie, I know that all four of you have active social lives unlike the rest of us on this team, but once in a while, try and get some sleep. I don't want you to have any more late nights before your match against Hufflepuff. Get a move on!'

Alison resumed her rounds of the field and the only person who could keep up with her was Harry on his Firebolt. After the initial adrenalin rush of soaring through the air had faded away, Alison glanced over at Harry. To her surprise, he was looking at her, but what was even more surprising was the fact that he didn't turn away when she caught him staring at her. Instead, he met her gaze and said, in a firm, steady voice, 'I know you like Oliver, and god knows he likes you! Then why on earth aren't you two an item? What's holding you back? It can't be your identity; Oliver seems fine with that. So what is it?'

'It's our friendship…I'm scared that we might ruin it…I, I guess I don't want to take that chance. And obviously neither does Oliver.

'So you're going to pretend that you're not attracted to him? I thought you weren't going to lie to him anymore, but by not admitting your emotions, that's exactly what you're doing! You're both lying to each other! And although this is a big risk, when you're old and gray and you're all alone, you'll realize that this is the sort of risk that is worth taking. I'm a firm believer that every person is meant to be with someone and honestly, Alison, I think you are one of the lucky few who has found that person without too much trouble. Think about it!'

At this point, they heard Oliver yelling at them from his position at the hoops, 'C'mon! No yakking! Get a move on!' Alison looked at Harry and as if on cue, they both burst out laughing!

Two and a half hours later, exhausted and sweating, six players stood around Oliver waiting for his analysis of how the practice had gone. To their surprise, Oliver had nothing spectacularly critical to say, which, from the looks on the others' faces, Alison could tell was a first. After Oliver had pointed out that their match with Hufflepuff was drawing closer by the day, he wrapped up the practice by congratulating his team on performing reasonably well. This, Alison later learned, was a huge compliment coming from their usually 'generous' captain. 

*****


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Alison walked out of the Changing room to find Oliver waiting for her outside. Eying her damp hair, he exclaimed, 'God damn it, Alison…last thing we need is for you to get ill right before the match.' Before she could protest, he grabbed the damp towel from her shoulder and then proceeded to wipe her hair vigorously. When he was done, Alison's head hurt from the violent shaking and she felt a little dazed. Oliver obviously didn't notice and he grasped her hand and led her to the Great Hall for brekkies. As she walked into the Great Hall, Alison thought she saw a young boy, about Harry's age craning his neck to look at her. But before she could make sure that she was seeing right, he had turned back, and Alison had walked right into someone. Startled, she looked at the person who she had collided with and saw Professor Lupin smiling at her, his eyes twinkling! In a low voice, he said, 'Sirius told me what happened with Oliver, and he wanted me to report to him on the situation. I don't think it would be too presumptuous of me to assume that Oliver is alright with your *ahem* origins. Hmm…?'

'Well, he was a bit uncomfortable to start with, but I convinced him that dad was innocent. It really makes a difference to me, not having to lie to him.'

'Yes, well, that's love!' said Lupin with a chuckle.

Alison's face colored as she exclaimed, 'God, my father's worse than an old woman when it comes to gossip! Anyway, I had better go or Oliver's arm might fall off from waving at me!'

Lupin turned to see Oliver waving frantically at her, a look of complete distress on his handsome face. He turned back to Alison and whispered, 'God, he obviously wants you!' with a slight stress on the word 'wants'. Before Alison could enquire about this rather sexual innuendo, Lupin had turned and walked out of the Great Hall. 

Slightly annoyed at the thought of her father telling Lupin her secrets, she walked towards the Gryffindor table. As usual, as she walked, heads turned, and for a few seconds, conversations seized to exist among the male population of the school. But Alison had grown used to this silence. When she got to the table, she leaned over Angelina's shoulder to look at the piece of parchment that she held in her hand, a piece of parchment that read:

"Hogsmeade Weekend this Saturday. Only students in third year and above are permitted to go, provided they have their permission slips signed."

The last part of the letter made Alison's heart sink. How on earth was she going to get her father's signature? It was then that she turned her attention to Oliver, who looked like he was about to die of fright! Puzzled and a bit worried, Alison asked, 'What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you have fire ants in your pants and they're doing a lot of damage!' 

With the air of a drug dealer on one of the darker, more sinister alleyways in Durban, Oliver, pulled a letter from inside his robes, and after looking around furtively to ensure that no one was looking, he dropped it in her lap. Even more puzzled by this behavior than by the last, Alison looked down at the letter in her lap and then grinned. It all made sense now!

Sitting in her lap was a letter from her father; a letter from 'Sirius Black' and that was what had put Oliver in such a flap. He had grabbed the letter as soon as it had arrived and hidden it so as to prevent Alison's cover from being blown. Though, really, such precautions were very unnecessary. Alison couldn't think of anyone who would want to read her mail. Still, Oliver's concern was touching. With two tears, she ripped open the letter and as she read it, her grin became even wider. The note read:

'I, Sirius Black, father of Alison Adams Black, give her the permission to attend Hogsmeade with her friends.'

That was it, but it was enough for Alison! Gleefully, she showed it to Oliver, who read it, albeit furtively as Alison poured herself a large glass of juice. Harry caught her eye and winked. Alison winked back. Oliver watched in silence, but before he could break the silence, a cold voice from behind him did. The cold voice of Marcus Flint. 'Well, Woodie,' he sneered, 'it's only a few days to your first match, and you still don't have a third chaser.'

Oliver pushed back his chair and swung around to face Flint. His dark eyes flashing, he said, 'Well, you've obviously been misinformed; I do have a third Chaser, an awesome one at that. Now for the sake of secrecy, I'm not going to tell you who it is, but I promise you, you wont be half as cocky when we play you because you're going to know that we will steam roller you! We will squash you into the ground! So run along and practice, I have a feeling you're going to need it!'

Flint seemed at a loss for words and as soft titters of laughter began to ring through the Great Hall, he turned on heel and walked back to the Slytherin table. Once there, he held a whispered conversation with the blonde haired boy who had been staring at Alison earlier. Suddenly, she remembered what his name was. She remembered Harry telling her about Draco Malfoy. She felt a chill run down her back as she saw Flint glance over his shoulder at her before turning back to Malfoy and nodding his head decisively. It seemed as though some sort of plan had been decided on, one that, if Alison knew Flint well, didn't bode her well at all.

*****

Later that day, as Alison and Oliver burst into the Potions classroom, the look on Professor Snape's face told them that they were really in for it. It certainly didn't help their case that their clothes and hair were ruffled from sprinting the whole way from the Muggle Studies lesson, which had been held at the Quidditch Pitch again. Much to their surprise, they were let off relatively easily. Gryffindor only lost twenty points, an astonishingly low figure even when he was in a good mood. As they slipped into their seats, she heard a snigger coming from the shadows somewhere behind her. This time, however, she didn't bother to turn around! She knew exactly who the sniggerer was. 

After Snape had given them their assignments and had begun his prowls around the classroom, Alison slowly pulled a page out of her book and scribbled:

'When do the dance practices start?'

She then shoved the paper at Oliver, who cast a discreet glance at it before dragging it towards himself using his elbow and writing back, 'How about this evening? We'll tell the others in lunch.'

Alison looked over at him and nodded. She was about to say something when she caught sight of a long shadow forming on her book. Slowly, she turned around and gasped.

Professor Snape stood behind her, a malicious sneer forming on his thin lips and Alison felt like a naughty girl, caught with her hands in the cookie jar. In a loud voice that caused everyone in the class to turn around and stare, he said, 'Seeing as how you seem unable to concentrate in class, Miss Adams, I think it would only be fair to expect you to do something else that might require all of your attention. So perhaps you would like to clean out the cauldrons at the front of the classroom. But be warned, I shall expect this assignment on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. And if I don't have it by then, I promise you will find yourself in detention for the rest of the week. You'd better get to work on the cauldrons as I don't intend on letting you leave until you have finished cleaning them all. And when I say clean, I mean manually, without magic. The soap and brushes are in the cupboard to the right of my desk.'

Glaring sullenly at the large collection of cauldrons that stood at the front of the classroom, Alison stalked to the cupboard, pulled it open and grabbed a couple of brushes and a large bottle of detergent. Then she walked over to the first cauldron and winced. It was covered with slimy green goo that looked like it had solidified. She glanced over at Snape who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. Clenching her jaw to keep from screaming and throwing the brush at Snape's head, she opened the bottle of detergent and squeezed. Nothing. Not a drop! Annoyed, she shook the bottle and then squeezed again. Still nothing. Honestly, the least Snape could do was give her a bottle full of detergent. She tried one last time, but this time with the nozzle facing her and knowing her luck, this time, it did work. Foul smelling purple detergent spurted all over her black robes and onto her face. Grimacing, she wiped her face and then proceeded to clean the cauldrons. As she had expected, the goo had indeed solidified, making it impossible to remove except with her fingernails. By the time she finished, it was nearly the end of the lesson and her nails were a mess, not to mention her hair and her robes. When the bell rang, Snape came over and began to inspect each cauldron individually. But Alison knew that he would be unable to find fault with her on this count! She refused to give him the satisfaction of keeping her back. Finally, he looked and said, without a trace of emotion in his voice, 'you may go. But remember, I want that essay by tomorrow!'

*****

That evening, eight Gryffindors assembled in the Great Hall after dinner. They made their way to the spacious Transfiguration classroom and when they got there, they settled themselves on the desks, a privilege that would have been impossible had Professor McGonagall been around. Almost immediately, they got down to business, deciding which songs they were going to dance to. After a long, conversation during which they seemed to go round and round in circle, they all finally agreed on 'Freestyler' by Bomfunk MCs for the Group dance and 'When you're looking like that' by Westlife for the couple dance. That decided, Alicia and Angelina wanted to get started right away but Oliver insisted that they all go to bed right away so that Quidditch practice would be a bit livelier the next morning. A wide yawn by Katie slipped the clincher and much to Alicia's disgust, Oliver packed them all off to bed. 

*****

The whole week just flew by and before Alison knew it, it was the weekend and the whole school-save those unlucky enough not to be able to go to Hogsmeade for whatever reason-was abuzz with excitement. All eight Gryffindors who had been chosen for the dance competition had been working hard all week, attending practices called by Alison during lunch as well as after class. In addition to this, Oliver was making his Quidditch team practice at all hours of day, and night for that matter, and he himself was working like a man possessed. All he seemed to think about was the upcoming match against Hufflepuff and although Hufflepuff was by far the least competitive of the four house teams, Oliver was making them practice as though they were going to play against the England team itself. As if this weren't bad enough, all the teachers seemed to be piling up the homework, in preparation for the NEWTs particularly Snape who had been in a very vindictive mood that whole week. All in all, the sixth and seventh years were exhausted, and this weekend provided them with chance to relax, unwind a bit and get in some much-needed fun. Their last class on the Saturday was Defense Against The Dark Arts and as they all queued up by the door to show Prof. Lupin their permission slips, Alicia and Angelina were talking animatedly about a shop called 'It's your world' which, if what Alison had heard was anything to go by, was an earthen paradise, particularly for girls with money to spend. Oliver, on the other hand, seemed to be able to think of nothing but Butterbeer, which he considered better than any form of alcohol. As Lee lewdly said, 'If you can't get any action in the sack, there's always Butterbeer!' as she neared the door, Alison fished in her pocket for her permission slip and triumphantly pulled it out before brandishing it in front of Lupin's nose. An expression of amusement and slight disquiet on his face, he snatched the note from her and said, 'I trust you wont be needing this anymore.' Then, in an undertone, he added, 'Buy yourself a really pretty gown. Your father is dying to see it. In fact, he's more excited about this dance than he was about his own prom!' 

About fifteen minutes later, Alison walked out of the gates with Oliver by her side. She looked over at her three friends and felt a pang of jealousy when she noticed that they were all holding their boyfriends' hands. It pierced her soul like the edge of a serrated dagger, tearing her insides to pieces. At that point in time, she wanted nothing more than to turn to Oliver and kiss him, just so that she wouldn't be the only one without a boyfriend. But as soon as that thought entered her mind, she pushed it away firmly. If she was ever going to have any relationship with Oliver, it was going to come of its own accord and not because of her own petty jealousy. She glanced at Oliver and had to smile when he proceeded to do the funniest albeit the most exaggerated imitation of Professor Snape, from the way a vein twitched in his temple when he got angry to the way he swished his robes behind him as he walked. Before she knew it, they were standing in Hogsmeade and had decided that they would meet up at the Three Broomsticks in exactly two and half hours. With that, Alison followed the other three girls towards the shop that she had heard so much about while Oliver strolled off with the other three guys to buy his tuxedo.

As the three girls walked along, they talked about a lot of things, from clothes to fashion to Alison's life in South Africa. But inevitably, the conversation ended up on Oliver. Katie began to gush about how handsome Oliver had looked that morning and yet, again, all three girls turned to Alison for her 'unbiased' opinion. Alison had half a mind to tell them exactly what she had thought or rather felt that morning. But instead, she resisted the urge and again, said, in an impassive voice; 'It's Oliver…that pretty much says it all for me!' As she turned away to look at a poster that had been put up on the wall, she caught the look of exasperation on Katie's face and chuckled to herself, 'If only they knew how obvious their motive was!' fortunately, she was saved from further joshing by their arrival in front of what Alicia claimed to be the entrance to the shop. True, it did say It's Your World' on the wall just above the dirty wooden door, but if the door was anything to go by, Alison was certainly not buying her dress from here. A bit stunned, she turned to Alicia who smiled and then tapped three times on what appeared to be a regular dustbin, just beside the door. Immediately, the brick wall disappeared, like a shroud being pulled out from in front of her eyes. And what Alison saw made her jaw drop open and her eyes open wide. Stretching out in front of her was the longest aisle she had ever seen. On either side of this aisle were shelves stocked from roof to floor with all sorts of things. In fact the only breaks in these aisles were for entrances into smaller aisles. Purposefully, Alison's three companions strode down the center aisle for about 100 meters and then turned left into one of the smaller aisles. And there, Alison gasped as her eyes beheld the widest collection of gowns and robes imaginable. From simple blacks to shimmering whites, from gowns that were enchanted to fade between two colors at regular intervals, to gowns that were Muggle-like in their appearance. And it was towards these gowns that the four girls walked. Alison headed towards a rack that held some rather promising looking gowns. She ran an expert finger along the rack and quickly picked out the three dresses that she liked the most. When she looked around, she found that her three companions seemed to have disappeared. Slightly puzzled, Alison walked into the changing room and slipped on the first of her three short listed gowns. This one was black and short and two thin straps held it up. Although the gown did accentuate her figure nicely, it was nothing spectacular. And that was what Alison was looking for…something spectacular! She pulled off this gown and pulled on the next. This particular gown was a lot more 'spectacular' in every sense of the word. From the plunging neckline to the colors, it was a lot more eye catching than the first one. The top half of the gown was a shimmery pale lavender while the bottom half was a regal purple. But as Alison looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that the lavender did not suit her particular skin tone. Slightly disappointed, she pulled this gown off as well and tossed it on the ground beside the black one. Then she pulled on the last of her short listed outfits, a flowing maroon gown. This gown would not have been anything much in the spectacular department had it not been for its intriguing center section. The center section consisted entirely of fine silver threads that crisscrossed to form a net. And as Alison twirled and looked at herself in the mirror, she knew that this would be the dress she        would wear to the ball unless something really spectacular surfaced. She was just changing back into her robes when someone threw a gown over the door of her changing room and it fell on the floor near her feet. Puzzled, she picked it up and rushed out of the door to see if the owner was still around. To her astonishment, the corridors on either side of the changing rooms were completely empty. Now completely confused, Alison looked down at the dress in her hand and her heart did a double flip. Her hands trembling slightly, she held the dress up to look at the dress properly and to find some flaw in it. There had to be a flaw, no dress could be so perfect. But after staring at it for what seemed like an eternity, she still couldn't seem to find the flaw. She looked around again to make sure that the original finder of this dress was not around. Nobody! The corridors were still empty. Her heart still pounding, she rushed back into her cubicle and slipped on the gown. It fitted her like a glove and as she looked at herself in the mirror, Alison could not imagine anyone else wearing this particular gown. The gown was a deep blue like the color of the sea on a bright summer's day. And as she moved, tiny silver sparkles appeared on the material as though minute diamonds had been sewn into the material. The dress itself was of a style that Alison had never seen before. Along with the deepest back she had ever seen, it was held up by two sets of silver threads: one set around her neck and the other about halfway down her back. The bottom of the dress flowed to the ground almost as if it were made of some sort of liquid that had been frozen in time. The dress accentuated Alison's narrow waist, her shapely hips and her long, slender legs. It was gorgeous!  She was about to take off the gown, when suddenly; there came a loud knock on the door of her cubicle. Alison froze with the fear that it might be the person who had thrown the gown over the door of the cubicle. In a trembly voice, Alison whispered, 'Who is it?'

To her great relief, it was only Alicia, checking to see if she was done. Thanking her stars, Alison stepped out of the cubicle and the three girls outside were momentarily stunned into speechless silence. They just gaped at Alison as she stepped out of the cubicle, looking like some sort of fairy princess, albeit without a crown of any kind on her head. It was Katie who broke the silence. In a voice that was barely above a whisper, she said, 'Where did you get that gown? It's…it's exquisite! I mean, wow! And we were just about to tell you that we couldn't find anything worthwhile in this place…'she lapsed into silence. Alison felt a bit uncomfortable with all three of them gazing at her in unbridled admiration and she said hesitantly, 'well, umm…I think I'll go change back into my robes now!' she had just turned to go back into her cubicle when Alicia said, 'God, it is so unfair. Just when we think that you've hit your peak, that you can't possibly look any more gorgeous, you go and do just that. And where does that leave us, us poor ordinary looking womenfolk when all the men would give their right legs to go out with you. Hell, I've seen the way my boyfriend looks at you and it's annoying to know that he thinks someone else is sexier than me! But then, I guess its not your fault that men are so shallow…I, I'm sorry…' Alicia looked down at her feet, mortified at her sudden outburst. Alison felt terrible, even though she hadn't done anything, she felt like a witch that lured men out into the open and then ate them! Softly, she said, 'Hey, look, I'm sorry…but I guess now that Alicia has told me exactly how she feels, a feeling which, I'm sure, is common to all three of you, it's only fair that I tell you exactly how I feel. I think the three of you are immensely lucky. All three of you have boyfriends who really love you and to tell you the truth, every time I see you holding their hands, I feel so jealous of you…jealous that you have something that I don't have, jealous that you are able to feel such intimacy when I can't. I'm only human, too, you know! And the fact of the matter is, I'm lonely, so lonely it makes me want to hurl! Nobody has everything. Do you want to know what I don't have? I don't have love! And if you really love your boyfriends, that should make you feel sorry for me 'cuz you've all been touched by love while I haven't.' with that very profound speech, Alison went into the changing room and shut it firmly behind her. 

When she emerged five minutes later, the blue dress hanging over her shoulder and the other three in her hand, her companions seemed suitably subdued. Alison looked at them and then down at the gowns in her hand. A smile began to spread across her face as a plan to lighten the atmosphere began to form in her head. About half an hour later, all four girls emerged from the shop, each holding a bag in their hand. Just as Alison had suspected they would, Katie had bought the lavender gown and Alicia and Angelina had bought the maroon and black ones respectively. Together, the girls walked towards the Three Broomsticks talking loudly about the rather attractive wizard who had made out the receipt for them. Before they knew it, they were standing outside the Three Broomsticks, a building that looked like it was being held up by its fair share of magic. As a chill wind blew around them, they rushed through the door of the pub and were instantly greeted by a shroud of warmth and laughter. Intrigued Alison looked around and saw half the student body of Hogwarts not to mention some of the teachers, sitting at tables, looking completely at ease. Finally, she spotted the four boys sitting at a table, right at the far corner of the room, absorbed in an intense conversation, which, no doubt, centered about Quidditch. However, Alison would never get the chance to know that they had in fact been talking about a slight variation of Quidditch, namely Women in Quidditch. From there, they had switched to women in general and these sorts of conversations always made Oliver feel a bit left out as his experience with members of the opposite sex was extremely limited. However, this time, he found that he did indeed have something worthwhile to contribute to the conversation as it centered mainly on women and how bitchy they get when in PMS. Although not quite in his element, Oliver was much better informed in this particular scenario than the other three due to his remarkable friendship with Alison. He did, however, lose all interest in the conversation when it turned to sex in all its forms and manifestations. It wasn't as though he was not interested in sex, he was, after all, a man! But, he had no interest whatsoever in having sex with a woman that one did not love. It was at this point in the conversation that Oliver glanced at the door and saw Alison looking around. Grinning, he stood up and waved. Alison saw him and turned around to say something to the three girls who were with her. Together, they began to walk towards the table and despite himself; Oliver couldn't help but wonder if Alison had ever had consensual sex and if her opinions on the subject were anything like his. No sooner had the thought crept into his mind than he pushed it away. As she slipped into the seat beside her, he grabbed for the bag that she held in her hand, only to be swatted away like a fly by a very indignant Alison. Putting on his best puppydog face, Oliver said, 'aw, c'mon Alison! Pweeeeez? Lemme see what you bought!'

Trying her best not to bust into laughter, Alison sputtered, 'No, why do you wanna see what I bought?'

'Cuz…'

'Cuz?'

'Oh, forget it!'

The other six seated at the table had been watching this little exchange with amusement. They all thought it was so cute the way Alison and Oliver bickered. And that was what had caused the three girls to try and get Alison interested in Oliver. They knew that getting Oliver interested in Alison was not a problem; no guy in his right mind would be able to resist her charms. 

Three hours flew by in an instant and before Alison knew it, they had only half an hour left to get back to the castle. To her astonishment and slight annoyance, Alicia, Angelina and Katie got up and left the Three Broomsticks with their respective boyfriends, leaving her and Oliver all one. She wondered if the three boys were in on this one as well. So, she turned to Oliver and said, with a pretend sad expression on her face, "Y'know Oliver, I'm beginning to get the feeling that they don't like us very much…'

'I'd probably get the same feeling if they hadn't told me that they were looking forward to spending some quality time with their girlfriends. So, I wouldn't feel badly about it, if I were you! Sooo…are you going to show me your gown?'

'Hell, no…and no, I won't show it to you in exchange for seeing your tuxedo, before you even suggest it!'

'All right, then, don't show it to me! Now what say we ditch this joint and go for a walk…I need a bit of fresh air!'

Alison readily agreed, for although the Three Broomsticks was a very cozy place, after about three hours, it tended to get a bit stuffy. She picked up her bag and followed Oliver out into the chilly night. As a gust of wind breezed past them, Alison shivered, and pulled her cloak tighter around her body. Oliver noticed, and frowned…last thing he needed was an ill Chaser! They walked along in silence and before they knew it, they had reached the shrieking shack. Alison had heard all about this place from Harry and her father, and she knew its long, illustrious history. As she looked at the broken down shack, the yellowed plaster peeling in places, she couldn't blame the people who believed the stories that this shack was haunted. As it towered menacingly over them, silhouetted against the full moon, Alison felt a chill run down her spine. She walked over to where Oliver was leaning against the fence and hoisted herself up into one of the wooden posts driven into the ground. As she did so, her hand brushed against Oliver's chest and she jerked it away. But before it could get very far, Oliver caught hold of her hand and pulled her towards him. Slowly, gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. Timidly, she looked up into Oliver's eyes and her knees felt weak. Gently, he ran a finger along the length of her cheekbones and then onto her lip. As Alison closed her eyes, the last thing she saw was Oliver's handsome face lowering down onto hers. As his lips touched hers, her whole body began to tingle. She could feel his hands on her waist, but instead of pushing them away like the rational part of her brain was telling her to, she raised her arms and locked them around his neck, pulling him closer. As the kiss got deeper and harder, Alison lost consciousness of everything around her. It was only her and Oliver, alone. Suddenly, she heard a noise, the sound of someone clearing his throat. Abruptly, she stopped and pushed Oliver away. She swirled around and gasped, for in front of her stood Draco Malfoy, a wide sneer pasted on his face. In a voice that made her blood run cold, he said, 'Well, well, well, what do we have here? I certainly hope that I didn't interrupt anything too important?' with that, he turned around and walked towards the road that led back to Hogwarts.  Alison watched him retreat into the darkness, and when he had finally disappeared, she swallowed hard to try and get rid of the growing lump in her throat. Then, in a would be casual voice, she said, 'Wow, it's gotten really dark, we'd better head back to school, or else they might send out a search party!'

'Umm…yeah, we'd better get going, I wouldn't want anyone to get worried about us…'

As they trudged down the path to Hogwarts, neither said a word. But both their minds were whirring. Despite her cheery exterior, Alison was weeping on the inside. She couldn't believe that her life could be so twisted. I mean, why couldn't Malfoy have just minded his own business. Or better yet, why hadn't she just ignored him, and kept right on doing what she was doing. You know, the 'let the whole world go fck a tree' attitude. Why was it that every time she and Oliver came close to kissing, something happened that forced them to stop? God, she hated herself for making everything so complicated, and for not showing Oliver that she was attracted to him right from the word Go. 

Oliver's mind was whirling from the most amazing two minutes of his life. When his lips had touched hers, he felt as though he was finally whole, like that little bit of him that had been missing all this time had finally been found. He felt as though the two of them were the only ones in the entire universe who mattered. He wanted so much to just tell her straight out that he loved her, that he adored everything about her, from the way she laughed right down to the way she walked. But it wasn't as though he could pull her into a dark cupboard to shut out the rest of the world, and then profess his undying love for her. Just the thought of being alone in a dark cupboard with her sent a wave of excitement surging through his body. 

Before they knew it, they were standing outside the Common Room. Oliver muttered the password under his breath and the portrait hole swung open. As he stepped through, into the Common Room, the Fat Lady, who was rumored to have quite a crush on him, winked at him. The two of them stepped inside to be greeted by a wave of noise and chatter. Alison looked around to see the whole of the Gryffindor House sitting in the Common Room. Every armchair, every pouf, every available surface had been occupied. Surveying the scene before her, Alison noticed that Katie was sitting on Fred's lap, her head resting against his chest, their hands entwined. Over on the other side of the Common Room, Harry, Ron and particularly indignant Hermione were all squashed into one armchair. Some of Oliver's friends were sitting on the floor near the fire, playing a game of wizard's chess. Chuckling softly to herself, Alison turned to Oliver, only to find him looking intently at her. In a soft voice, Alison said, 'well, there doesn't seem to be very much place here, Ollie, so I guess this is good night…'her voice trailed off as Oliver leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek, before whispering, 'Good night'. Startled, Alison didn't know what to say. So instead, she bolted up the stairs to her dorm, after looking around shadily to see if anyone had seen that. As Oliver watched her beat a quick retreat to her dorm, he grinned. *There was no rule saying you couldn't flirt with your best friend* he thought as he walked over to where his friends were sitting on the floor. 

*****

The day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff dawned bright and sunny, and the sky was a forget-me-not blue. Alison awoke well before dawn and couldn't seem to get back to sleep. She tossed and turned to try and find a more comfortable position but it was no use. Eventually, she clambered out of bed and changed into her black robes. Quietly, she eased open the door and tiptoed down the stairs to the Common Room. To her immense surprise, she found that it was not empty. The slight frame of Harry Potter sat curled up in the armchair closest to the fireplace. At the sound of her footsteps, he turned around and smiled weakly at her. Puzzled, Alison asked, 'Whassa matter Harry? Not feeling too well?' 

'No, I'm fine…it's just nerves. Aren't you nervous? I mean, this is your first Quidditch match…'

'FIRST?? What a load of bull! I've played Quidditch for as long as I can remember. I was captain at my old school!!!'

Stunned, Harry groped for words but he couldn't find any. Luckily, he was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of Oliver into the Common Room. Oliver seemed as keyed up about the match as Alison seemed calm. He was like a tightly wound toy bounding all over the Common Room, polishing first his broomstick and then Harry's and Alison's in turn. In a conspiratorial whisper, Harry said, 'don't mind Oliver! He tends to get a bit weirder than usual before a match!' This, however, did not deter Oliver from scrubbing Alison's broom just as hard as he had polished his own. At breakfast, he was even worse. He urged everyone else to eat, while at the same time, not touching a morsel himself. He glanced at his watch every couple of seconds. Finally, in a hoarse voice, he said 'Team, Changing Rooms! Let's move!' As the Gryffindor team made their way out of the Great Hall, everyone but the Hufflepuffs and the Slytherins cheered them loudly. Alison's heart began to beat faster as they made their way to Quidditch pitch and into the changing rooms. 

After they had all changed into the robes, they assembled just inside the changing room and waited for Oliver's pep talk. Oliver took a deep breath and then plunged right into his speech.

"Alright, team! The ground's hard and it should give us a good kickoff. I know that Hufflepuff doesn't quite have the best reputation in the world when it comes to Quidditch, but that doesn't matter! I don't want to see any signs of complacency, from the moment we step onto that field to the moment we step off it. I want every single one of you to be alert. Work as a team! You're not here to prove anything to me! I know you're all good individual players, but you have to pull together as a team! That's the only way we're going to win the Quidditch Cup this year. I know that you can do it!! Now you have to go out there and prove me right!!!"

Pumped up, the Gryffindor team charged onto the field amid thundering applause that rang out from all corners of the stadium. When they got to the center where the Hufflepuffs, all dressed in their canary yellow robes, were waiting for them, Madame Hooch told the two captains to shake hands. Oliver grasped Cedric's hand and shook it firmly. He even allowed himself a small smile. As they let go, Mme Hooch intoned, 'I want a clean and fair game! No cheating, no fighting, or else the player shall be severely reprimanded! Now, mount your brooms!'

Her heart thumping against her ribcage, adrenalin coursing through her veins, Alison swung her leg over her broom. Beside her, she could see Oliver clenching and unclenching his jaw. The muscles in her legs tensed as she awaited Mme Hooch's whistle. And then it came! A shrill whistle emitted from Madame Hooch's lips and as one, fourteen brooms pushed off from the ground. They soared into the air like corks being popped from a champagne bottle and then scattered. The crowd went wild and for a few seconds Alison felt as though her eardrums would burst. But as it happened she was not given much time to dwell on this thought. Angelina tossed the bright red Quaffle straight at her and as Alison caught it, she felt a surge of adrenalin course through her veins. Gripping the handle of her broom hard, she zoomed towards the goalposts. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a speeding bludger heading straight for her. She banked sharply to the left and to her relief, the Bludger whistled past her, so close that she could feel the swish of air as it went past. Up ahead, the goalpost glinted in the sunlight and she could see the Hufflepuff keeper begin to swerve around the first two goalposts. Like Oliver before him, the Hufflepuff goalie didn't think Alison would attempt to toss the Quaffle at the third and farthest goalpost. Little did he know! The entire crowd got to its feet as Alison neared the posts. Alison's muscles tensed and she hurled the Quaffle at the third hoop. As it sailed through the hoops without so much as grazing the sides, the half if the crowd that was decked in red began to holler and yell. Jubilantly, Lee Jordan announced the score: 10-0 Gryffindor. Elated, Alison punched her fist in the air as she flew back to her original position. As she flew past Harry, he winked at her and jerked his head towards the eastern side of the ground that was bordered by some greenery. To Alison's immense astonishment, she saw the outline of a large black dog sitting among the vegetation. She couldn't help grinning as she thought, 'Good old dad!!'

            Twenty minutes and five goals later, the score read 50-0 in favour of Gryffindor. Of the five goals, Alison had scored three and had helped set up the other two. For his part, Oliver had successfully fended off a wild volley off shots on the Gryffindor goal after the Angelina had scored the fourth goal for Gryffindor. Harry, acting from experience, was staying well out of the way, keeping a watchful eye out for any bludgers hit by the Hufflepuff beaters. Hufflepuff was in possession and the top chaser on the Hufflepuff team, LeMov was speeding towards Oliver, the Quaffle held tightly under his arm. Fred and George pelted the bludgers at him, but the LeMov deftly dodged them. LeMov had raised his arm and was about to release the Quaffle when a flash of gold streaked past his face. The Golden Snitch! Harry and Cedric saw it too, but much to Oliver's dismay, Cedric was much closer to it than Harry. Oliver watched in horror as Cedric narrowed his eyes and zoomed towards the snitch. When he was less than arm's distance away, Oliver closed his eyes. He couldn't believe that Cedric was going to get the snitch before Harry. Every eye in the stadium was riveted in Cedric and Harry, so much so that no one noticed Alison looping Cedric from behind. Cedric was about to close his fingers around the snitch when suddenly, Alison cut across in front of him, nearly severing his wrist! Cedric jerked his hand back just in time, and that slight moment of hesitation was all Harry needed to cover the distance between him and the Snitch. Before Cedric had time to recover, Harry clutched at the snitch, trapping it between his sweaty fingers. But before he could celebrate, he heard a spine-chilling crunch, followed almost immediately by a cry of pain. He whirled around to see Alison fall to the ground in a crumpled heap, clutching her arm in pain. Any thought of celebration were pushed from him mind as he saw Alison's face contort in agony.  He jumped off his broom and charged towards where Alison lay on the ground. Behind him, the crowd had gone strangely silent and Madame Hooch blew her whistle signaling the end of the match.  Before Harry could reach Alison, Oliver appeared by her side and gently lifted her arm to check the extent of the damage caused. All her teammates were clustered around her when all of a sudden; a large black dog pushed its way through them and began to lick Alison's face. Despite the throbbing pain in her arm, Alison smiled, and Oliver couldn't keep himself from chuckling. He did, however, stop when the dog gave me a look very reminiscent of Professor McGonagall. Trust Sirius to come to his daughter's "rescue". By this time, the spectators had regained their raucousness and had made their way down to the pitch, hollering and blowing thin horns. Despite Oliver's protests, they hoisted all the members of the Gryffindor team, including Alison onto their shoulders and carried them back to the castle. Had it not been for Madame Hooch's intervention, they most certainly would have carried Alison back to the common room for the celebration party, pain or no pain. But Madame Hooch stoically insisted that Alison be taken to the hospital wing for immediate treatment turning a deaf ear on Alison's feeble pleas that she really wasn't hurt very seriously. Oliver insisted that he go with her for he could see that despite her smiles, her face was pale and pinched with pain. Harry had tried to accompany them but the crowd refused to let him escape, so he let himself be led off by the crowd, a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. 

When the last supporter had disappeared around the corner, Oliver looked at Alison out of the corner of his eye and said, 'You played brilliantly today…but you lost your concentration at the end? Any reason or do you just tend to do that in a tense match?' Alison smiled at him weakly. In a shaky voice that confirmed his suspicion that she was holding back tears, she said, 'I guess…I guess I was watching Harry and I kinda forgot that I was still on the pitch. I'm sorry for putting you through this, Oliver…' Her voice trailed off and Oliver, sensing that she was in dire need of some cheering up, whispered, 'Close your eyes'. When Alison looked at him rather skeptically, he exclaimed, 'Oh, goddamn it! I'm not gonna hurt you! Will you just close your eyes?'

Rolling her eyes, Alison conceded and did as she was told. To her astonishment, she felt Oliver grasp her around the waist and sweep her off her feet…literally. Her eyes flew open and she stared at Oliver in shock! Gently, he ran his finger down the length of her nose before smiling cheekily and saying, 'Relax…it's just you and me now!' Alison's breath quickened when she saw the look of desire in his eyes. She didn't want this to happen, not here, not now, not when she didn't have full use of her arms! She turned her head away and said faintly, 'Ollie, my arm really hurts…can we go to the hospital wing?'

Oliver hesitated, as though contemplating whether or not to believe Alison, but when he saw the pleading look in Alison's eyes, his heart melted and he gave in. Slowly, the two made their way to the hospital wing. 

            When Madame Pomfrey saw Alison in Oliver's arms, she raised her eyebrow rather skeptically, before enquiring if Alison's feet had also been hurt in some way by the bludger. When she received an answer in the negative, she chuckled under her breath and directed Oliver to put Alison down on the bed in the corner. Tentatively, the nurse began to prod Alison's arm and when she touched the spot where the Bludger had struck Alison, Alison yelped loudly and jumped almost two feet in the air. In a grave voice that made Oliver's heart sink, she said, 'Just as I suspected…it's broken. But, I wouldn't worry about it too much, I can fix broken bones in an instant!' she got up and walked to the opposite corner of the ward, where she rummaged in a battered looking cupboard for about two minutes. Finally, she pulled a bottle of glutinous, slime green liquid out the third drawer with a triumphant look on her face. Pulling out the biggest spoon Alison had ever seen from the pocket of her smock, she poured a generous helping of the medicine onto it before forcing it down Alison's throat. As the liquid slid down her gullet, the whole back of her throat felt as though it were going up in flames. Her eyes began to water and sweat began to pour out of her pores. Had it not been for the immense pain that was threatening to consume her whole, the look of alarm on Oliver's face would almost certainly have made her laugh. As the burning sensation started to die down, so indeed did the pain in her arm. To her shock, and wonder, Alison realized that her arm was not throbbing any more. 

            When Oliver and Alison stepped through the portrait hole, they were greeted by a wave of music and laughter. Without even stopping to look at her friends, Alison headed straight for the table in the corner that held the refreshments. To her astonishment, there was alcohol on the table, and lots of it. On any other day, she would have pondered how the alcohol had gotten there, but not that day. That day, she just poured herself a shot of straight vodka, before gulping it down. Oliver watched her in silence. Alison looked at him and said, as if in explanation of what she had just done, 'hey, I've had a fcking hard day!' Pouring himself some brandy, Oliver chuckled and replied, 'Tell me about it! I thought I was going to have to find myself a new Chaser…again!' As the first notes of the song 'Fly By' by Blue began to filter from the radio, all the couples headed for the small makeshift dance floor in the center of the common room. Oliver wondered if he had the guts to ask Alison to dance. But when he looked at her, he made up his mind. Without a word, he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her towards the dance floor. Once there, he turned around to face her and placed his arms around her waist. Gently, he pulled her close to him and began to dance. At first Alison's muscles were stiff but as the song went on, she relaxed and began to sway with him. She could feel the people's eyes boring into her back, but right then she couldn't care less. And neither, it seemed, could Oliver. As the night wore on, Alison began to wish that she could just tell Oliver how she felt about him, but she was waiting for the right moment. And that moment, in the middle of the Gryffindor common room filled with Gryffindors from year three upwards, that moment just didn't feel like the right one.

*****

            The jubilation caused by Gryffindor's victory lasted a whole week. Hufflepuff, it has to be said, were incredibly good losers. The entire team congratulated Oliver and his teammates on a splendid display of teamwork. Cedric apologized profusely to Alison and seemed sincerely relived that the bludger had caused her no lasting damage. The next few weeks seemed to fly by, what with the never-ending stream of practices for the dance competition and steadily increasing amount of homework that the professors were piling on them. The match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin went pretty much as expected. The latter wiped the floor with the Ravenclaws, much to the disappointment of all the Gryffindors. And much to Harry's distress, Cho had taken the loss particularly hard as she had been within striking range of the snitch twice during the match and both times, she had lost her nerve at the last second. Indeed, so depressed was she that Care of Magical Creatures was beginning to get rather dull. Usually, this was the class during which Alison and Cho discussed *ahem* boys, much to Oliver's discomfort, but lately, Alison found Cho increasingly reluctant to participate in one of these conversations. However, as the days passed with increasing excitement about the upcoming festivities, even she began to think less about the humiliating loss at the hands of Slytherin and more about the dance competition and the ensuing ball. 

            After much persuasion, Alison convinced Harry to try his luck at asking Cho to the ball. The expression on his face when he asked her if he could talk to her in private was particularly priceless, being a curious combination of apprehension and unbridled terror. To his shock, Cho accepted the invitation without so much as a moment's hesitation. Needless to say that once the initial shock of her acceptance wore off, he was up on cloud nine for quite a while. At about the same time, Ron finally summoned up the courage to do something that he had been contemplating for a while and asked Hermione to go the ball with him. The outcome was the same, though Rom was not completely shocked when Hermione accepted as the attraction between the two had been apparent for quite a while. With everyone else pairing up, Alison began to worry that Oliver might end up going to the ball with someone else and that she might end up all on her own. At the same time, the thought of going stag to the ball was not as daunting as asking Oliver to accompany her for this special occasion. As the days passed by and the ball drew closer, Alison's niggling worry turned into full blown panic and she began to walk around with a look of suffering on her face. Despite Harry encouraging her to ask Oliver to the ball, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. 

            However, all the worry was for nothing as a week before the actual ball, Professor Agallant called a meeting for all the competitors and told them that for convenience sake it might be best for them to go to the ball with their dance partners, unless other arrangements had already been made. In addition, he ensured them that they could wear jeans for the actual dance competition, which was to be held at 4:30 pm. This, he promised, would give them a minimum of one hour to get ready for the ball, which would start at 8:30 pm. Both of these, particularly the first took a huge load off Alison's mind. Not that she needed to have worried. Oliver had not even contemplated going to the ball with someone else, and it was not for lack of offers from the other girls in the school. Worst come to worst, he would have asked Alison himself.

            At the meeting, Alison noticed that the couple for Slytherin was Marcus Flint and Drucilla Perkins. Drucilla Perkins, a seventh year who sat behind Alison in Potions, was a particularly vile species of 'bitch'. Angelina swore that if someone were to look up the word in the dictionary, they would find Drucilla's picture next to it. That was not to say that she wasn't pretty. In fact, she was probably one of the most attractive girls in the school after Alison. With her layered blonde hair and blue green eyes, Alison had heard that she had ruled the roost before she arrived. The fact that Alison had now taken over didn't help. Drucilla had been particularly vindictive right from the word go, and that day at the meeting, she had been in prime form. After professor Agallant had finished making his announcements, and Alison and Oliver were leaving the classroom, Drucilla had looked Alison up and down before turning to Marcus and saying, 'isn't is tacky how some brown people think they are pretty…I mean, they're brown for god's sake! Don't you agree, Marcus?' although Marcus thought Alison was absolutely gorgeous, he couldn't possibly tell anyone that! So he replied, in as cutting a voice as he could muster, 'Bloody pagans!'

             Fortunately for him, neither Alison nor Oliver heard this little exchange, but unfortunately, Professor Agallant certainly did and he nearly exploded with anger. His voice trembling with rage, he sentenced both Marcus and Drucilla to a month of detention helping Filch with any jobs that he might need done. Seething, he added, 'If I had my way, I'd make sure that the two of you were disqualified…but I look forward to watching you being humiliated.' 

Flint's froze in an expression of shock…he could not believe that a teacher had actually said that to him. Drucilla, on the other hand, burst into tears, covering her face with her hands, before turning and running out of the room. With a hateful glance back at Professor Agallant, Flint chased after Drucilla; he couldn't have his partner in tears so soon before the actual competition. Professor Agallant watched after them, his lip curled in distaste. As he turned back to his desk, he hoped that Alison and Oliver did actually win, or else, he would never be able to face Flint again. Then, the image of Alison dancing appeared in his mind's eye and any doubts that he might have had were immediately banished.

            As the dance competition drew closer, Alison began to work harder and harder. She was determined to make sure that their group dance was the best. She worked all day choreographing new steps, making minor changes to the dance and then she worked all night trying to complete her fast growing heap of homework. Three days before the dance, the strain began to show and Oliver began to get really worried, so worried that he offered to do some of her homework for her. To his extreme annoyance, Alison turned down his generous offer and it was then that he decided that the time had come to take extreme measures. That night, after Alison had gone to her dorm, Oliver sat down and wrote a note canceling Quidditch practice for the next morning. He then stuck it up by the fireplace, in a prominent position, so as to attract people's attention towards it. Satisfied with his work, he made his way up to Alison's dorm. As softly as he could, he pushed open the door and then, cautiously, peered around the doorframe. He saw Alison hunched up on her bed, furiously scribbling something on a piece of parchment. Silently, he tiptoed over to her. When he was about two paces away from her, she stiffened and then whirled around. When she saw that it was only Oliver, she let out a huge sigh of relief. She moved over and then motioned for him to sit on the bed next to her. When he shook his head, she looked at him with a puzzled expression on her face. In a low voice, he said, 'Come with me, I want to show you something.'

She opened her mouth to protest, but Oliver placed his finger on her lips, silencing her. Then he grasped her hand firmly, and led her out of the dorm. Once outside the dorm, Alison pleaded with Oliver to let her go back inside but he refused point blank to let her do so. In a serious voice, he said, 'Here, put on this sweater and then I want to show you something.' The look on Oliver's face kept Alison from protesting too much. She just grumbled and muttered under her breath to show her disapproval of the whole charade. 

            Finally, she was ready to go and Oliver led her out of the portrait hole and then down a corridor that Alison had never seen before. Before long, they came to a painting of a bowl of fruit. Oliver reached out and tickled the pair. Then, to Alison's immense amazement, the pear turned into a green doorknob. Her jaw dropped open as Oliver grasped the door handle and pushed. The whole wall in front of them opened up, and as the room behind the wall came into view, Alison gasped and her eyes widened. Behind her, Oliver grinned at her reaction. It was exactly as he had pictured it. 

            Alison could not believe her eyes as she took in the almost angelic scene in front of her. The door did not open into a room as she had expected, but rather onto a balcony…a balcony with the most gorgeous view of the lake. But it wasn't the view that captivated Alison, but rather the vast multitude of plants that occupied the balcony. In one corner stood the most magnificent rose bush, covered in roses the color of blood. Directly opposite, towered a huge tree with pure white blossoms. As alison looked around, flowers of all colours came into view, yellow, pink, blue and even violet. She stood as if in a trance, wondering how no one had ever told her of this marvelous place. Suddenly, she became aware of Oliver standing very close behind her. She turned around to find him standing inches away from her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from her body. The look of concern in Oliver's deep brown eyes was apparent at this proximity and softly, he said, 'We have to talk.' He led her over to a secluded corner of 'The Secret Garden' and to Alison's surprise, she saw a white cloth had been laid out on the ground. Unperturbed, Oliver flopped down on the white cloth and beckoned for Alison to do the same. When Alison sat down, Oliver whispered, 'We need to talk….'

'about what?,' interrupted Alison.

'…about you!' exploded Oliver. Seeing the startled look on her face, he took a deep breath and then continued, 'you're working too hard….i know that you're just trying to make our group the best for this competition, but Alison, its not as important as you make this out to be.' Noticing that Alison was about to protest, he pressed on, 'Look, I know what it's like to be under pressure…I'm the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, for god's sake! For the past three years, I've been pressurized to win the Cup, and it just hasn't worked out. But I know where to draw the line. I would never ever consider staying up all night to think up new Quidditch strategies. And that's your problem. You take things too seriously, you have to learn to let things go, relax a bit! I'm your best friend and I'm probably the only one who noticed that your grades have been slipping over the past two or three days. This may technically only be your sixth year, but if you want to graduate with us, with me, you have to keep up your academic standard and…'

'How the fuck am I supposed to keep that up when you're not letting me work, and you're always nagging me about getting to sleep?' yelled Alison. 'I have to make this group the best, Oliver, I have to! That's just the way I am, and that takes a lot of work, so much work that the only time I get t do my school work is at night! What else can I do?' Alison's voice cracked and tears began to flow down the sides of her face. Sobs racked her body and her breath came in rattling gasps. Before she knew it, she felt Oliver's arms around her, pulling her close to him. Slowly, he wiped the tears from her face and began to stroke her hair. 'Don't worry bout a thing…I'll help, with your school work, with the dance competition, with everything!' Alison suddenly remembered something and she pulled away from Oliver. Wiping her tear stained face with the back of her hand, she whispered, 'Oliver, I really appreciate the talk, and I really appreciate your concern, but I have to finish that essay for Snape or else he'll slap with a detention…please, let me go!' A grin appeared on Oliver's face as he drew a piece of parchment from his pocket and said, 'Like I said, don't worry about it…I've already done it for you!' Alison snatched the piece of paper, and her mouth dropped open as she saw an entire page filled with HER tiny handwriting. She looked at Oliver in search of an explanation, and Oliver exclaimed, 'God, you really are slipping, don't you remember the charm that Professor Flitwick taught us that allows us to copy people's handwriting? Tut, tut, Alison!' Alison burst into laughter at his comical impression of Professor McGonagall. Without thinking, she leaned over and kissed him, passionately, deeply. When she pulled away, Oliver didn't say a word, but instead said, 'I don't believe that you're gonna go back to your dorm and sleep, so just to make sure, you're gonna sleep here.'  Alison looked at him skeptically, and raised her eyebrow. Oliver noticed the look and grinned. In a slightly suggestive voice, he murmured, 'Well, unless you had something else is mind, of course.' Alison tried her best to look disapproving at the innuendo but failed miserably as she burst into laughter. Very soon, the both of them were bent over double with mirth. When finally they calmed down, Alison turned to go. She had almost reached the portrait hole that led back out into the corridor, when she felt Oliver's fingers close around her wrist. Slightly quizzical, she turned around and was about to plead with Oliver to let her go, when she saw the look in his eyes. It wasn't one of longing, or desire, or even lust. It was a look of concern, an emotion that was emphasized by his next words. So softly that she had to strain to catch his words, he whispered, 'Alison, I'm worried about you!' Alison's heart filled with warmth and love and she realized that she felt so complete with him. She felt like nothing else in the world mattered, like the only thing that mattered was that she be there with him. A tiny voice in her head reminded her that whoever the boy was, the consequences of spending the night with a member of the opposite sex could be dire. Almost immediately, though, another voice countered it by saying that this boy would never ever do anything to hurt her. Smiling at Oliver, she let him lead her back to the white sheet on the ground. Together, they sat down on the sheet, and Oliver put his arm around Alison's shoulders. At first, Alison was a little stiff, but the feel of Oliver's hand resting across her shoulders, as he stared out at the star-studded lake, relaxed her. Tentatively, she rested her head against Oliver's chest and to her amusement, she felt his heart pounding in his chest, in rhythm with hers. Oliver leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Soon, his heartbeat slowed down and his chest began to rise and fall at regular intervals. Alison could feel her eyes closing, and as she drifted off to sleep, she promised herself that whatever happened, and whatever the consequences, she would tell Oliver of her feelings by the night before graduation.

            Oliver awoke the next morning to find himself lying flat on his back. He squinted his eyes against the glare of the rising sun and slowly all the shapes around him came into view. When he saw the plants and the bushes, for a split second, he couldn't remember what he was doing there. Then, as he felt a hand brush against his chest, the events of the previous night came flooding back to him. His heart soared as he turned his head and saw Alison lying with her face turned to him. Her eyes were still closed, but with the light of the sun falling on her mocha skin, she looked like an angel. Her skin glowed, and her hair shone in the light. It took all of Oliver's willpower to stop himself from running his fingers through her silky hair. He must have lain there for about half an hour watching her sleep. He was consumed with his love for her; he loved the way she smiled, he loved the way she looked when she got angry, he even loved the way her eyelids fluttered when she was sleeping. Suddenly, her eyelids flew open and she was looking right at him. Her first expression mirrored one of panic, but as she realized that she was indeed fully dressed, a smile began to dawn on her face. Oliver could not help but grin back. All of a sudden, Alison jerked up and looked at her watch. Her eyes widened and a look of disbelief on her face, she breathed, 'Oh, Jesus!' Puzzled, Oliver glanced down at his own watch, and he did a double take. They had five minutes to get ready and go down to breakfast. Oliver's body clock had never let him down before…obviously there was more than one thing that Alison's presence threw out of whack. 

            Both of them rushed out of the balcony and into the corridor before beginning to sprint down its length. They reached the portrait of Fat Lady two minutes later, panting and covered in sweat. The Fat Lady seemed mighty interested in where they had been all night and why they were sweating so hard, but Alison did not feel like explaining at that point in time. The both of them burst into the common room to find it completely empty. they made their way to their respective dorms and within forty five seconds Alison was down again, only now she was wearing her uniform. Or at least, part of it. Her tie was undone and she carried her shoes and socks in her hand, desperately clutching her book bag in the other. Oliver, on the other hand, looked far more presentable. Looking down at his watch, he predicted that it would take them thirty seconds to get to the Great Hall if they ran like they had never run before. That still left them with a minute and a half to spare. Dumping his own bag on the ground, he strode over to Alison and snatched the tie from around her neck. He then proceeded to tie it very efficiently. In the meantime, Alison pulled on her socks and then her shoes. She turned towards the portrait hole to leave, when Oliver caught hold of her, by the waist and pulled her close towards him. Unsure of what he had in mind, Alison hesitated, but much to her relief, all he did was run his fingers through her hair, in an attempt to make it look somewhat more presentable. 

            As Oliver ran his fingers through her silky smooth hair, he felt a surge of elation rush through his entire being. He was so close to her, that he could feel her breath on his neck and he could smell the peppermint scent of her toothpaste. All the emotions, all the desires that he had tried to quell during their night together in paradise threatened to surface. It took all of Oliver's willpower to keep from opening his heart to her, right there and then, and as he let go of her and followed her out through the portrait hole, he smirked inwardly. "Who says men are testosterone driven animals", he thought to himself, as he mentally congratulated himself on conquering his desires. 

            They arrived outside the Great Hall, just in time to see Professor McGonagall closing the gigantic doors. Smiling inwardly at their slightly tousled appearance, Professor McGonagall let them pass through. Obviously, this relationship had gone a lot farther than she had expected it to. Running her hands through her knotted hair, Oliver followed Oliver to the Gryffindor table, trying her level best to ignore the hoots and whistles that were sounding all around her. As she passed Professor Lupin, who was seated at the teacher's table next to Professor Dumbledore, he raised his eyebrows questioningly, a slight smile forming on his lips. Alison realized in horror that Remus would tell her father at the first possible opportunity.             

            When they sat down at the Gryffindor table, no one said anything for about five seconds. Then, Alicia said, rather slyly, 'Sleep well, did you, Alison??' Alison's faced burned with embarrassment as she tried to think of something witty to say, but her usually nimble mind seemed to have been scrambled by the events of the previous night. She opened her mouth to tell Alicia to mind her own business, when Oliver said, 'Yeah, she did sleep well! She hadn't been sleeping at all for the past three days, so I took her to Madame Pomfrey, who gave her some sleeping potion. I went to get her this morning and it took her a while to get up and that's why we're late.' All of this was said in a very firm voice, and no one dared to question him. Alicia's face fell and she glanced over at Angelina and Katie in disappointment; they had obviously though that their plan to get Oliver and Alison together had failed. They all went back to eating as George and Fred imitated their girlfriends' voices as they found Alison's bed empty that morning, only to receive sharp slaps from the girls concerned. Everyone went back to eating, but Alison still felt slightly uncomfortable…she had, after all, spent the night with a boy, a boy that she was intensely attracted to. Besides, no one at any of the other tables had heard Oliver's explanation, so they were bound to think that something had happened during the night. Oliver noticed the worried look on Alison's face, and placed his hand on her thigh to comfort her. He was most amused to find that the muscles in her legs were taught. Trust Alison to get rattled over a little thing like this. But little did he know that it wasn't what the rest of the student body though that was making Alison uncomfortable, but rather the thought of her father's reaction. She was almost sure that Professor Lupin would tell him, not out of vindictiveness, of course, but out of concern for alison's well being. 

As Alison looked around the table, she noticed that the only person who did not seem convinced of their innocence was Harry. He looked at Alison meaningfully and with a slight jerk of his head, indicated that he needed to talk to her. Silently, she acknowledged his request, and then continued to eat. When she got up to leave, she noticed Professor Lupin striding towards her, a look of determination on his face. Softly, he murmured, 'We need to talk!' before walking out of the Great Hall. Alison watched him go and shook her head in disbelief; she now had to talk to two people about what had really happened the previous night. Turning around, she prodded Oliver hard in the back, causing him to yelp in pain. Seeing the look on her face, he hastily gulped down the remnants of his juice, before wiping the crumbs off his robes and standing up. They had almost reached the doors of the Great Hall, when they were joined by some of Oliver's friends, including a very pale Cedric. They insisted that they talk to Oliver alone, and finally Oliver conceded, glancing apologetically back at Alison. Alison didn't even need to think about what they could possibly want to ask Oliver about. It made her sick to think that people thought that Oliver and she had made love. Not that the prospect seemed sickening, now that she came to think of it. But before she could dwell on this thought, she was joined by Harry, who whispered, 'we'd better get out of here, fast, or else, Ron and Hermione might catch up to us.' When he saw the puzzled look on Alison's face, he added condescendingly, 'well, you don't want them to know about your feelings for Oliver, do you??' Shaking her head vigourously, Alison quickened her pace, with Harry trotting alongside her. When they were out of earshot of everyone else, Harry practically yelled, 'what the hell is wrong with you??? Have you lost your mind? How could you think of sleeping with him, you're not even legal yet! You could get pregnant! You could get some sort of disease, you could…' he trailed off, and Alison couldn't keep from grinning at his concern for her. When he saw the smile on her face, Harry growled, 'Oh, you think it's funny, do you??' But before he could continue, Alison clapped her hand over his mouth and said, 'For god's sake, Harry! What do you take me for, a fool? Even if I were to sleep with him, which I didn't, but even if I did, don't you think I would have the sense to use protection? Anyway, we didn't have sex! He was just worried about me, so he took me to this place, and he made sure that I actually slept and that I didn't work through the night! That's all that happened last night!! THAT'S ALL!!'

Harry's face that had previously been contorted with disbelief relaxed as he realized that Alison was telling the truth. He let out a huge sigh, as this realization dawned on him, and then, in a quiet voice, he said, 'you might wanna explain that to Lupin; he was so worried about you! he was beside himself with worry!!'

'Yeah, I'll talk to him in lunch! I just hope he hasn't told dad that I spent the night getting jiggy with some guy!'

Harry burst into laughter at the thought of Lupin telling Sirius that. He could just imagine the look of shock on Sirius's face as he tried to comprehend what his long time friend was telling him. Alison tried her best to remain solemn, but the sight of Harry bent over nearly double with mirth was more than enough to set her off. And truthfully, they looked a sight. They were both roaring with laughter, clutching each other's shoulders to keep from falling over! 

            Oliver was trying to walk up the stairs as fast as he possibly could. In his opinion, the faster he walked, the sooner he would get to class and the sooner he would escape the Spanish Inquisition. But Cedric was having none of it. He grabbed hold of the back of Oliver's robes, and forced him to slow down. No sooner had Oliver slowed his pace than he began to be pelted with questions asking him for the truth about what happened the previous night. Realising that there was no escaping this, he told them exactly what had happened. And to his immense annoyance, not one of them believed him. In an incredulous voice, Cedric asked, 'So, you expect us to believe that you just spent the night with the hottest girl any of us has ever seen, and you didn't even kiss her?? What do you take us for?'

At the mention of a kiss, Oliver recalled the brief, but passionate kiss that he had shared with Alison in the Secret Garden. His moment of hesitation did not go unnoticed. Cedric's eyes widened as he practically yelled, 'So you did have sex!!!' 

'NO, WE DID NOT! we just…'

'Just what??'

'You know…we just kissed, just once…'

'You LUCKY son of a BITCH!! That girl is a babe!'

'Shut up, man…I think…I think…'

'What????'

'I think…I love her…'

'What the fuck are you talking about???? You can't be in love with her!! She's the first girl you've ever dated; hell, you don't even KNOW what love is!!'

Oliver's eyes glazed over and he said, in a voice that none of his friends had ever heard him use, 'Love is when you would do anything for a person, and not expect anything in return. It's when the only thing that makes you happy is being there next to her and seeing her smile. Love is when you're willing to give up anything and everything just to be with her. It's when you're willing to climb the highest mountain and swim the deepest seas, just to reach her. And when you kiss her, the whole world fades away and the only two people that matter are the two of you…'

Cedric shook his head in disbelief; he could not believe that Oliver, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, was so absolutely besotted with a girl. But then again, Alison was not just any girl; she was a class above the rest. When Cedric finally did manage to get over his shock, he said, in an awed voice, 'God, you really are in love…but does she know?'

'I don't knows…I mean, she must know, right? We kissed, and it wasn't the first time…'

Before Cedric could voice his disbelief at not having been informed of these proceedings, Flint came up from behind them and said, 'Congratulations, Wood! That girl is the prize catch!' With that he walked off, and Oliver stared after his retreating back: he couldn't believe that Flint had directed a compliment at him. Sniggering, Cedric said, 'Now that really emphasizes how lucky you are…even Marcus Flint couldn't deny it.' 

Oliver grinned, but his insides were churning uncomfortable. He wanted to take what Flint had said as a complement and leave it at that, but there had been something in his eyes that worried him. There had been a glint of malice, maybe even a warning. As far as he could remember, Flint had always tried to hurt Oliver, by doing whatever was necessary. In their first year, he had broken Oliver's wand and made it seem like Cedric had done it. On the Quidditch pitch, they had always been archrivals, gunning for each other's throats. But the memory that chilled Oliver to the bone was the way Flint always tried to take what Oliver had. Flint's desire to take away anything and everything that was important to Oliver, coupled with his hatred for Alison, could not bear well for his best friend. As Oliver walked into Greenhouse Number 3 for their Hufflepuff lesson, he resolved to watch over Alison, and above all, keep her away from Marcus Flint. But what Oliver did not know was that he was up against the combined power of hatred and lust, a deadly combination indeed. 

            Alison was puzzled by Oliver's behaviour during Herbology. He was being especially nice, offering to clean up any blots of ink on her parchments, and even going to the extent of making sure that she got the nicest gloves. Obviously, Cedric had said something to him that had twisted his brain. At least, that was how she saw it. So after class, she told Oliver that she had to go back to the Common Room to change, and that she'd meet him in the Great Hall in about fifteen minutes. Slightly disgruntled, Oliver trotted off to the Great Hall with Angelina by his side. As soon as he was out of sight, Alison set off in the opposite direction. She didn't have very far to go before she found Cedric, knelt over in the corridor, tying his shoelace. Slightly startled, he asked, 'What's the matter? Are you lost??'

'No, but we need to talk about something…'

'Umm…I'm getting some really mixed signals, I thought you didn't like me!'

'I DON'T! At least, not as a potential boyfriend! I just wanted to know what you said to Oliver that's making him act this weird.'

'What do you mean?'

'Like, he's being really nice!'

'Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, the guy might like you??'

'Of course he likes me! I'm his best friend…'

'No, I mean, really like you, the way I like you'

'Oh…'

Alison's face coloured, partly because even Cedric seemed to think that something had happened between Oliver and her, and party because he had just admitted to liking her. Cedric saw the uncomfortable expression on her face and grinned. In a soft voice, he said, 'Hell, don't worry about it! You were the first girl who ever turned me down, but I guess it had to happen sooner or later…I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you. So, you coming to the Great Hall or what?' 

'Actually, I've got to go talk to Professor Lupin…you know, about the homework. Could you tell Oliver that I'll see him in Potions?'

'Sure, not a problem. I'll see you around.'

Alison watched him stroll down the corridor, and despite herself, could not help but admire the physique that made him one of the prize catches at Hogwarts. Her eyes strayed down to his firm behind and she could not help but giggle at the expression on Alicia's face as she described what Cedric looked like in his boxers. Alison had not wanted to know how Alicia had managed to view Cedric in all his splendour. But before she could dwell on the thought of seeing Cedric in his boxers, the image of Oliver dressed in nothing but a fluffy white bath towel and bathroom slippers floated into her mind, and any thoughts of Cedric were firmly and surely expelled. Suddenly realizing that she had just stood around for about five minutes, she began to walk down the corridor towards the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom, and three minutes later, she was standing outside the large wooden door. Before she could knock, the door swung open revealing Professor Lupin, and a very grave looking Professor Lupin at that. Without a word, he beckoned her into the classroom and gestured for her to close the door behind her. The sunlight filtering in through the slotted windows threw Professor Lupin's features into sharp relief and emphasized the look of worry in his eyes. in a solemn voice, he said, 'Alison, I know that I am not your father, but I am one of his closest friends. And in a way, that makes me one of your closest uncles. Believe me when I say that I take this duty seriously. Your father was unable to be here, though it was not for want of things to say to you. He had PLENTY to say. So he has given me the privilege to say them for him. Firstly,' and he held up a hand when Alison started to protest at being treated like a criminal being read her rights, 'Firstly, I want you to know that here, in England, the legal age for *ahem* sexual intercourse is 18. And the penalties for breaking that law are severe. But even more severe than any punishments that the Ministry of Magic might impose upon you are the consequences of unprotected sex. You could get pregnant, or even worse, you might get a sexually transmitted disease. Do you have any idea how awful that would…' Before he could finish his sentence, Alison interrupted in a very bored voice, saying, 'But we didn't have sex…he just wanted to make sure that I slept that night, instead of staying awake doing my homework. Like I told Harry, I am aware of the consequences, and even if I were to have sex with Oliver, I would not be so stupid as to do so without some form of protection, magical or otherwise.'

'So what you are telling me is that you spent the night with a boy that you are intensely attracted to and absolutely nothing happened? and you expect me to believe that? Honestly, Alison, if you are going to lie, at least show me the respect of coming up with a believable one.

'But that is seriously what happened,' pleaded Alison. She could not believe that Professor Lupin was refusing to believe her. Professor Lupin's expression hardened at Alison's insistence that nothing untowardly had happened between Oliver and herself. He looked at her and said, 'Alison, this is your last chance to tell the truth…'

Alison looked him right in the eye and exclaimed, 'I SWEAR!!! Why wont you believe me??'

'I suppose there's really only one way to find out…' with that, Lupin raised his wand high in the air and then brought it down over Alison's head, muttering a spell under his breath. Alison's mouth dropped open, in horror as she felt herself burst into yellow gold flames. Lupin's eyes widened as he watched the flames envelope Alison's body. Within thirty seconds, the flames had changed colour to blue green. When the flames finally did die down, Alison looked around her in surprise. She had never imagined that being surrounded by flames could be quite so enjoyable. With a skeptical look on her face, she asked, 'well, are you satisfied now? Whatever that little test was, I hope that it proved my innocence…' her voice trailed off when she saw the grave look on Lupin's face. His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he said, 'So you've never had sex? That's strange because the flames just turned blue green…you have no idea what that means, do you?'

Alison could not believe what she was hearing. Lupin was refusing staunchly to believe her, and somehow the charm that he had just cast on her seemed to be indicating that she had indeed had sex. Her mind spun as she tried to remember what had happened the previous night, and her heart skipped a beat when she realized how easy it would have been for Oliver to drug her. As soon as the thought occurred to her, she pushed it away as firmly as she could. Oliver would never harm her, would he? Trying to hide her confusion, Alison responded in an equally sarcastic voice, 'Well, perhaps you could explain what the 'blue green' flames meant, instead of accusing me of doing something that I would never ever do, not in a hundred years!'

Lupin's eyes hardened and he took a deep breath. In as calm a voice as he could muster while fighting the rage that was welling up within him, he said, 'The blue green flames mean that you aren't a virgin, and that you've had sex before. That's what they mean. And yet, you stand here, cool as a cucumber, trying to convince me that you never have had sex. You must really think I'm…'

Alison's quivering voice interrupted him and she said, 'This charm, does it have a time limit?'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, does it only show if I've had sex, or does it show if I've had sex in the past month or so?'

'Just whether you've had sex…but how does that matter? You're not eighteen now, and I'm hoping that if you ever have had sex, it was last night, or else you're in even bigger trouble, young lady.'

Alison's face paled as Professor Lupin continued to talk. The realization that this charm did not differentiate between rape and consensual sex hit her with the force of a giant sledgehammer. She realized that there was no way that she was going to get out of this without telling Professor Lupin that she had been raped. Just the thought of telling him her secret terrified her. She had no idea how he would react, let alone her father. If Oliver had reacted so protectively, she couldn't bear to think of what her father might do. As these thoughts raced through her head, she did not notice the tears that were running down the sides of her. She was jolted from her thoughts by Professor Lupin's hand on hers. In a gentle voice, he asked, 'Is something wrong…don't cry, please. Look, I didn't mean to sound so harsh, it's just that I promised your father that I would look after you. And I think I have a right to be worried about this.'

Rubbing the back of her hand across her tear stained face, Alison whispered, 'I was raped.' Professor Lupin's reaction was instantaneous. His face darkened like a thundercloud and he clenched his jaw. Between gritted teeth, he muttered, 'And I thought Oliver was a decent chap.'

He stood up and headed for the door, but before he could turn the handle, he felt Alison's fingers close around his wrist. Silently, she shook her head, before murmuring, 'it wasn't Oliver…Oliver would never hurt me. It was this boy at my old school. That's why I asked if there was a time limit…it happened about six months ago.' Lupin let out his breath in aloud whoosh, and looked deep into her eyes as if to fathom whether or not she was telling the truth. When he saw the pain mirrored in her raven black eyes, he decided that no one, not even Alison, was as good an actress as all that. Without a word, he put his arms around her and held her close. 

As she pulled away from him, Alison had a huge smirk on her face. She could feel the guilt radiating from Lupin's body and she was going to milk it for all it was worth. Putting on the most wounded expression that she could under the circumstances, she said tearfully, 'I cant believe that you thought I had slept with Oliver. What hurts even more is the fact that you wouldn't believe me when I said that I hadn't. And you had to resort to some unreliable charm.'

Lupin had felt low plenty of times in his life, like when he realized that he was the reason that Sirius had broken up with his fiancée. But the pained expression on Alison's face made him feel like the slimiest worm on the face of the planet. Guilt washed over him, like an unwelcome wave, and he opened his mouth to say sorry. But before he did, he stole another look at Alison, and to his extreme annoyance, saw a twinkle in her eyes. Faint as it was, it was definitely there. Exasperated, he shook his head and this was all Alison could take. She burst out laughing and after trying for thirty seconds to keep a straight face, Professor Lupin joined in as well.

When he finally stopped laughing, he said, with as straight a face as he could manage, 'I really am sorry that I doubted you, Alison. I should have known that you would never sleep with Oliver.'

Chuckling, Alison replied, 'well, I certainly hadn't thought about it earlier, but now that everyone thinks that I already did, I might as well sleep with him…what do you think?'

'I think you're delirious! Now off to lunch with you, or Prince Charming might get worried.'

'Aren't you coming?'

'No, I've got myself a sandwich,' jerking his head at a package that lay on his desk.

Nodding, Alison walked out of the DADA class and her spirits rising with each step, she made her way to the Great Hall. 

            She was halfway there when she saw a person whose face she had begun to dread because it was inevitably accompanied by a rude remark or an insult. Marcus Flint was coming down the corridor and surprisingly, he was all alone. Usually, he was with one or both of his cronies. Even more surprising was the expression on his face when he saw Alison striding towards him, trying her best to ignore him. As Alison strode past him, she thought she caught a hint of smile. She thought that she was home and free, when she felt his clammy fingers close around her wrist in an iron grip. She whirled around, revved up to tell him exactly what she thought of him, only to find the strangest expression on his face. It took her a few moments to realize that it was only strange because she had never seen Marcus Flint grinning before. In a voice that sent shivers up her spine, he said, 'You know, Alison…if we just put our differences aside, we might have more in common than you could imagine. Why don't we give it a shot, huh?' Alison watched in horror as he closed in on her, licking his lips. She willed her body to move, but she seemed paralyzed, transfixed to the spot with terror. As he drew closer, she could smell the alcohol on his breath, and the fumes were so strong that they made her head spin. She could see the look in his muddy brown eyes and her skin crawled as she saw the desire burning in them. Before she could do anything, he pulled out his wand and pointing it at her, he muttered, 'Petrificus Totalus!' Alison felt as though she had been frozen, and she tried in vain to move her arms. But it was all to no avail. A sneer spread across Flint's twisted face as he said, 'It's no use struggling…I've always cast the most effective full body locks. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to resort to such, ah, extreme measures. But you forced my hand. Such a pity, you know.'

Alison tried to scream, but she couldn't seem to open her mouth. Her face contorted in terror, as Flint ran his fingers along the sides of her body. Roughly, he grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips against hers, his lust for her becoming increasingly evident with each passing second. Alison had never felt so utterly helpless. As far as she could see, there was no way out of this. Not the one. Flint pushed her body against the wall and pressed his own up against hers. To her horror, she could feel his hands lifting up her robe, and moving up her legs. Their cold touch against her skin heightened her panic, and if she could, she would have been screaming at the top of her lungs. 

            After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably a few seconds, Alison heard someone clearing their throat loudly, above the roar of rushing blood in her ears. Her eyes were blurry and she could just make out the shape of a boy, about Harry's height. Her heart leaped at the thought that maybe, perhaps, it was indeed Harry, come to rescue her. But as the boy wrenched Flint off her, and her vision cleared, she saw Draco's flushed face looking back at her. Cussing loudly, Flint tried to shake Draco off, but when he did finally manage to get free, he saw, to his disgust, that Draco was holding two wands: his own, and Flint's. And at that moment, both wands were pointed squarely at Flint's chest. Flint's eyes were burning were hatred at the rude interruption, but when he saw the look of determination on Draco's face, he lowered his eyes. Still watching Flint like a hawk, he pointed one of the wands at Alison and murmured the counter curse for the full body lock. All of a sudden, Alison could move again, but instead of racing down the corridor, like her brain was willing her to, she just sank to floor in a crumpled heap, the tears streaming down the sides of her face. Looking gratefully up at Draco, she began to thank him, when he said to Flint, in a voice that was utterly devoid of emotion, 'When I make a plan, I don't expect it to be ruined, especially not by you. Pull yourself together, man!' Then, throwing a contemptuous glance at Alison, he added, 'we'll deal with the unfinished business later…' Looking slightly shamed, Flint nodded and then slouched off down the corridor, followed closely by Draco. As a parting shot, Draco murmured, 'I'd watch my step if I were you, Adams…'

            Alison's body racked with silent sobs as she watched Draco and Flint retreat into the distance. Her body began to throb with pain, and as she looked down at her arms, she could see that there were deep scratches on them, courtesy of Marcus Flint. Her legs still tingled from where he had touched her, and try as she might, she could not push the image of his vile face out of her mind. Draco's words echoed in her mind, as she tried valiantly to stand up. Pushing her damp, sweaty hair out of her face, she began to stagger towards the hall. She was almost there, when she realized that Oliver would want to know exactly what had happened if he saw the scars on her arms. The image of Oliver's handsome face drifted into her mind, and she couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he found out what Flint had done, or at least, tried to do. Resolutely, she decided that the last thing that she needed was for Oliver to fuel Flint's hatred for her, and so she did an about face and walked off in the direction of the hospital wing. 

                 Madame Pomfrey's face registered horror when she saw Alison's battered arms. In a hushed voice, she asked, 'My dear child, what on earth happened?'

Alison had prepared herself for this question and in as steady a voice as she could manage, she said, 'I was on my broomstick and I lost control. I just hurtled into the wall of the castle. I'm lucky that this is all that happened, really.'

Madame Pomfrey looked at her skeptically and said, 'Well, a broomstick. And here I was, thinking that these were nail marks…you have to admit, though, these are rather deep for a collision into one of the castle walls.

Alison could see that Madame Pomfrey was groping, but she stuck resolutely to her story. In a flat voice, she just repeated what she had said earlier. Slightly annoyed, Madame Pomfrey bustled away to find some potion to heal the cuts. As she was rummaging through her drawers, Seamus Finnigan from Gryffindor walked in, and when he saw Alison, he coloured. He was rumored to have quite a crush on her. But then again, who didn't. His eyes wide, he said, 'Blimey, those are nasty! How'd you get 'em?'

Before Alison could tell him, Mme Pomfrey came back with the potion in her hand and said, 'Oh, she crashed into a wall on her broomstick…rather silly of her, wouldn't you say?'

'Ummm…' Seamus searched desperately for words, but needn't have bothered for he was cut off by Alison's scream of pain, as Mme Pomfrey dabbed the smoking liquid onto her cuts. The scream grew higher and higher in pitch until Seamus had to cover his ears, his face contorted in pain. As the potion dried and evaporated, the cuts disappeared, without so much as a scar. 

                 Alison walked out of the Hospital Wing five minutes later, with Seamus trotting along by her side. In a conversational voice, he asked, 'so, were you with Oliver when you crashed?'

'Huh? Oh…umm…yeah. I was with Oliver.' No sooner had the words left her mouth than she wished that she could take them back. She just hoped that Seamus did not mention anything to Oliver. 

                 For the rest of the day, Alison kept herself to herself. She did not join in the conversations about anything, not even about the dance competition, which was less than two days away. Oliver's puzzlement at her bizarre behaviour rose as the day went by. It had just reached its peak when Alison did not say one word in defense of cricket, her favourite sport in the world, when Oliver and Harry were dissing it. Without a word, she had gotten up from her seat and made her way to her dorm to change. She promised to come back down in time for the dance practice with Oliver, later that night. Oliver and Harry were puzzling over her behaviour, when they were joined by Seamus. 

                 As they were talking, Seamus brought up seeing Alison in the Hospital Wing as well as his surprise that she was not accompanied by either Harry or Oliver. The look of shock on their face at this little revelation did not go unnoticed, and in a condescending tone of voice, Seamus said, 'Well, the lass crashed into the wall, and she was pretty banged up too. Nasty scratches all over her arms.'

'Hold on, she wasn't on her broomstick…and she certainly didn't crash into any walls!' exclaimed Oliver, his face paling. 

'Well, how else do you explain the scratches all over her arms?'

'I sure as hell don't know, but I'm gonna find out!' Seamus watched in horror as Oliver sprang up from his chair and stalked to the girls' dorm. Harry made as if to follow him, but a withering glare from Oliver was enough incentive to make him sit right back down again. In a worried voice, Seamus murmured, 'Jesus, I hope I didn't just blow some big secret…'

Shaking his head resignedly, Harry responded, 'I think you just might have done exactly that, Seamus!'

                 When Oliver reached the door of the dorm, he did not bother to knock, as he knew that Alison was the only one in there. He shoved the door open and barged in, a glower growing on his face. To his annoyance, the dorm was empty. He looked around in disbelief, and was about to leave when Alison came out of the bathroom wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Oliver's eyes widened as he looked at Alison's right thigh. What he saw left his mouth agape, making him look very much like a fish stranded out of water. Alison looked at him, puzzled at the expression on his face. She looked down at her thigh, and to her horror, she saw a huge gash along the length of it, another charitable gift from Marcus Flint.  She looked up to find Oliver staring right at her. In an even voice, he said, 'Do you wanna tell me what happened, or am I going to have to find that out from Seamus as well?' The hurt he was feeling was apparent in his voice, and a wave of guilt washed over Alison. But what could she have told him? *Oh, yeah, Oliver, I just thought you should know that Flint tried to rape me. * Yeah right! Oliver made his way to her and sat down on her bed with a thud. Gently, he pulled her down with him. The touch of his fingers on her skin was a complete contrast to that of Marcus Flint. Where Flint had been rough, Oliver was gentle. Where Flint had been harsh, Oliver was caring. Oliver placed his arm around Alison's shoulder and drew her close to him. As the memory of what had happened that afternoon flooded back into her mind like a river breaking through the dam, tears began to flow down her cheeks and onto Oliver's shirt. Instead of drawing away, Oliver simply held her closer, and tenderly wiped away the tears with the tip of his finger. 

                 Through the tears, Alison whispered, 'Flint, he…he tried to hurt me, in lunch today.' She felt Oliver tense up but had she not had her face pressed against his chest, she would never have known from his next words. Stroking the top of her head, he said, 'How did he try to hurt you? Did he hex you, or curse you?'

'He tried to rape me, Oliver…and I couldn't stop him. I was just so helpless...it was almost exactly like the time at my old school. He…he did the Full Body Lock and he very nearly raped me, and then…and then, Draco stopped him…cuz he said he didn't want to ruin the plan…and that they could take care of me later.' At the mention of Flint trying to rape her, Oliver's face flushed with anger and rage began to course through his veins. The blood pounded in his ears and it was all he could do to keep from ferreting out Flint and ripping his head from his torso. Alison could fell Oliver clenching his fists, and the muscles in his protective arms bulging in unison. Sitting there, in Oliver's arms made the whole memory seem so far away. Gently, she pushed Oliver away, and made as if to get up. When Oliver pulled her back down, she exclaimed, 'Oh, c'mon Oliver, we have to practice. We may have it down to a fine science, but we still have to practice.'

'No, not tonight. Tonight you are going to sleep here, and I am going to make sure of that.'

Slightly unsure of where this was going, Alison lay down on the bed, and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep. The events of the day had completely tired her out. But even after her breath stabilized, and her chest began to mover up and down in a regular rhythm, Oliver did not leave. He just sat by her bed, looking down at her, the expression in his eyes a mixture of pain, worry and anger. When his Chasers came up to bed an hour later, he was still sitting there, silent and unmoving as a statue. The three girls knew better than to disturb him when he was in this sort of a mood. His admonishments could be quite severe when he was in a bad mood. When the first light of dawn filtered through the windows and onto Alison's peaceful face, he was still there. Only now, he was asleep, lying next to Alison in the narrow bed. And somehow, it just seemed right. 

                 The rays of light falling on his face made his eyes flutter open, and look around, a slightly puzzled expression on his face, trying to figure out where on earth he was, and why there was a pair of bright red lacy underwear slung over the post next to the bathroom. Confused, he rolled over in bed, and his eyes widened when he saw the person lying curled up next to him. As he bumped into her, she groaned softly, and snuggled closer to him. In a flood, it all came back to him. Staying by her bed the whole night, because she was so upset. And when he remembered the cause of her upset, anger began to surge through him. His every bone strained to throttle him and break his neck. His palms itched to be around Flint's neck. But he couldn't do that. And why not? Because that's what Alison had made him promise. So he would just have to be content with hating Marcus Flint with every fiber in his body. What a pity. As he looked over at Alison's tranquil features, he had to struggle with himself to pull himself away from her and get out of bed as slowly as possible. The last thing that Alison needed was to have more people tormenting her. He was about halfway to the door of the dorm, when he heard a loud knock. His heart in his mouth, he dived under the nearest bed, which happened to be Alicia's. To his surprise, the door opened slightly. Raising his head slightly, he saw a red head peering around the corner of the door, into the dorm. Oliver realized with horror that it was George, as the red head walked towards the bed under which Oliver was cowering. George disappeared from sight and with rising panic; Oliver tried to figure where he had gotten to. Then he felt a thud on the bed above him, followed by a muffled giggle that sounded suspiciously like Alicia. *Oh, fck…what a time to be caught under Alicia's bed! * As quietly as he could, he plugged his ears with his fingers to try and avoid listening to whatever was going on right above his head. But despite this, he could not block out the suspicious sounding giggles and the creaking sounds being emitted from the bed. About fifteen minutes during which Oliver realized that he would never be able to look either Alicia or George in the eye again, he felt George rolling off the bed, trying to keep from breathing too heavily. Alicia accompanied him to the door and as they shared a passionate kiss (to put it mildly), Oliver covered his eyes. He had known that Alicia and George had been going out for quite a while now, but actually watching them, or hearing them go at it like a couple of horny rabbits made him feel ill to the stomach. He heaved a huge sigh of relief as George finally left. Warily, Oliver glanced over at his watch, and its luminous dial told him that it was almost time for Quidditch practice. And then he remembered that Quidditch practice had been cancelled until further notice from Alison, much to the amusement of the other members of the team. Not that they were complaining. It was one of the rare chances that they got to sleep in. As Oliver watched Alicia lean against the door for what must have been a good two minutes, he hoped that she would go back to sleep. But much to his annoyance, she then proceeded to wake up her three roommates, who all glowered at her annoyingly cheerful mood. 

                 Oliver desperately wanted them all to go to the bathroom, or leave the room so that he could make his getaway. But he was learning the hard way that girls took a LONG time to get dressed, even if it was for school. Keeping as silent as he could, he prayed that no one would notice him. For if they did, he would never hear the end of it. 

                 His heartbeat had just about slowed down to normal, due to the silence in the room, when something lacy, thin and bright blue was tossed on the bed. One end hung over the side of the bed, and he stared at the revealing piece of lingerie in mortification. He hoped that no one would bend down to pick it up, when he heard Katie's voice right above him, asking, 'Hey, has anyone seen my electric blue bra?? I thought I left it on your bed, Alicia!'

Oliver's heart was in his mouth when Alicia replied, 'it must be under the bed…have you checked there?' he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the onslaught that was to follow. He could feel his face turning beet red, and he buried his face in his arms. And waited. Thirty seconds later, the scream still hadn't come. Gingerly, he opened his eyes and to his astonishment, he didn't see any shocked face glaring at him. In fact, the silence in the room was unnerving. He wondered where everyone had gone. He was getting ready to scramble out from beneath the bed and make a dash for the door, when a pair of bare legs appeared in front of his eyes. And very nice legs they were too. As soon as this thought entered his head, Oliver pushed it away. *Don't' be a pervert* he thought to himself. Still, he couldn't help wondering who the legs belonged to. He knew it had to be Alicia, Angelina, or Alison. Katie's skin was nowhere near this dark. Retreating to his curled position, he began to wonder what Cedric would say when he heard about this. He would probably laugh his head off at Oliver getting so worked up. Knowing Cedric, he would probably have just slid out from under the bed, and explained the whole situation without batting an eyelid. Returning to the present, he watched as the legs jumped off the bed and walked towards the door. To his mortification, he realized that whomever the legs belonged to, was wearing nothing but an oversized shirt. With a groan, he wondered to himself why girls could never dress decently when they thought they were alone. Almost at once, his mind flashed back to the time when he had spent the summer with Cedric at his house. With the closest thing to a grin that he could manage at that point, he recalled how they had spent entire days lolling about in Cedric's room, wearing nothing but boxers, and eating spaghetti. Needless to say that after he had dropped the red spaghetti sauce all over his boxers, he could never look Mrs. Diggory in the eye again. 

The sound of Alicia's voice jolted him from his reverie and he dared to open his eyes a fraction. To his immense relief, the bare legs had disappeared. He could hear Alicia's saying something about George, and he strained to hear her more clearly. As softly as he could, he shifted his weight to free both of his ears. Once he had done this, he could hear Alicia saying, 'Poor George…he has the most awful bruise on his stomach. I think the bludger must've hit him.'

In a voice that suggested that she already knew the answer, Katie enquired, 'and how, exactly, did you know that?'

Alicia giggled and said, 'Wellll…I don't think you wanna know!'

Even from where Oliver was lying at the other end of the dorm, he could hear Alison gasp and ask, 'you…you've seen George naked?'

Alicia burst out laughing and replied, 'well, actually, the first time I saw George naked was in the showers in the changing room. Angie dared me to go in there when all the guys were still in there…so I did. And I was just kinda skulking around, and I saw them in the showers.'

'NO WAY!!!' Alison yelled. She could not believe that Alicia would do something like that. Beneath the bed not too far away, Oliver felt his face turning red and his ears beginning to burn. He prayed that that had been one of the few occasions when he had stayed outside in the field to try and work out some strategies, but any hope of this sank at Alicia's next words. She said, 'well, anyway, part of the dare was to sneak into the guys changing room, and the other part, was to tell George how I felt, cuz I knew that if I left things up to him, we would still just be flirting with each other. Boys are so spineless that way! Anyway, I wanted to tell him in a way that he would never remember, and I got that chance when everyone left the Changing Room before him and Oliver left George to lock up. So when George went to get his towel from the rack, I sneaked into the showers and on the fogged up mirrors, I wrote _Roses are red, violets are blue, you may not know it, but someone loves you.'_ And then I hid behind the towel rack. You should have seen his expression when he saw the message. He was terrified. He clutched his towel around his waist, and his face went white as a sheet. I felt sorry for him, so I decided to put him out of his misery and so I stepped out from behind the towel rack. If his expression was funny earlier, it was priceless now!!!! From stark white, his face very nearly burst into flames. After assuring him that what I had seen had not deterred me one bit, we kissed, for the first time. And if the changing room was steamy before, it was nothing like when we left!'

'YOU HAD SEX IN THE CHANGING ROOM???'

'Uh-huh…its no big deal, I mean, so did Angie! And Katie did it in the common room!'

'OMIGOD!' 

Angelina, Alicia and Katie burst out laughing at Alison's reaction, but her reaction was nothing compared to Oliver's. He made a promise to himself that he was going to make the three girls scrub down the Changing Room without magic, just so that they would think twice before dirtying it again! The thought of Alicia and George doing it in the showers made him cringe. He was seriously contemplating sliding out from under the bed and just making a run for it, when Alicia began to speak again. In a thoughtful voice, she commented, 'Y'know Alison…if I hadn't been so besotted with George, I would definitely have reserved the special treatment for Oliver. I mean, to tell you the truth, he was the reason that I joined the team in the first place. And what I saw in the showers, now THAT was a man! Seriously, Alison, you should consider hooking up with him…he has the most amazing arse…it is fine!'

Oliver could not believe his ears! He wanted the ground to open up beneath him and let him fall through to some underground chamber where he would be safe from these crazy girls. Despite his immense discomfort at hearing things that were obviously not meant for the ears of guys, a small part of him wanted to hear Alison's reply, and it came after a slight hesitation. 

'It's…he's Oliver…my best friend, Oliver…not my boyfriend Oliver!'

'He could be your boyfriend and your best friend!'

'But what if something goes wrong? What if we suck as a couple? He's never gonna wanna look at me AGAIN!'

'That is such bullshit! It's obvious the guy loves you…I mean, you've seen the way he reacts when you get hurt. Like his reaction when he found out that some guy at your old school raped you! You owe it to yourselves to give it a try!'

'Oh, god, Alicia! I swear, you're making me out to be this heartless bitch! But if you knew how many times I've thought about him, about us, you wouldn't be so harsh!'

There was a hush and Oliver held his breath…even though he knew that this conversation was not meant for him, he was being put on tenterhooks. He could have kissed Alicia when she asked Alison precisely what he wanted to know: 'the question is, Alison, do you love him?'

'You have no idea…' Alicia interrupted her and stressed, 'Yes…or no?'

In a whisper, Alison replied, 'Yes, I do love Oliver Wood…how could I not? He's smart, he gorgeous, he makes me laugh; he honestly does care about me! What more could I ask for??'

Oliver's heart skipped a beat and he felt light, as though he was flying high in the sky.  The girl of his dreams had just admitted to loving him…not Cedric, not Marcus Flint, but him, Oliver Wood! It took all of his strength to keep from jumping out from under the bed and kissing her, right there and then. Instead, he made a resolution: he would tell her at the Halloween Ball. 

All the girls went down to the Great Hall and to Alison's bewilderment, Oliver wasn't there. Puzzled, she sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped herself to some cereal. Less than a few minutes later, Oliver came sauntering in. he pretended not to hear Alison's question about his previous whereabouts, and instead concentrated on his food, trying his level best not to think about what he had heard in the dormitory. After the girls had left, he had scrambled out from under the bed, and rushed into his own dorm. To his immense relief, it had been empty and he had been able to shower and change without having to fend off a hundred questions about why he hadn't been in the dorm the previous night. Needless to say that he had checked the whole dorm thoroughly for delinquent spying girls before getting into the shower. 

Alison's eyelids fluttered open the next morning, and no sooner had she rubbed the sleep from her eyes that her blood started pumping with adrenalin. This was the big day…the day of the Halloween Ball. She rolled over in bed and squinted at the luminous hands of her alarm clock. They read 5:30 in the morning, and outside the window, all the world was still dark. For a fleeting second, Alison contemplated taking her broom to the Quidditch pitch and flying a few laps to blow off some steam, before the now terrifying image of Marcus Flint burst into her mind like an animal charging in on her private thoughts. The thought of what he might have done to her was more than enough incentive to keep her from going down to the Quidditch pitch. 

Instead, she pulled on her most worn pair of jeans under her nightshirt and made her way downstairs to the Common Room. Slowly, she made her way to the armchair closest to the fireplace and was about to sit down, when movement in the next chair caught her attention. She whirled around, and clapped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. For, there in the armchair sat her father, cool as a cucumber. 

He grinned widely at her reaction and then gestured for her to sit down. Taking a deep breath, Alison whispered, 'what in heaven's name do you think you're doing here? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? And how did you get in, anyway?' her father just shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly before saying, 'Remus gave me the password, and of course I know how dangerous it is. I just wanted to wish you good luck, that's all.'

'Good luck for what?'

'For the competition…it is today, isn't it?'

'Oh, that…yeah, it's today and to tell you the truth, I'm terrified! I've never been terrified of going up on stage before, but this time…I don't know…it's just, it's just different…'

'Because you're dancing with Oliver?'

Alison looked up to see if her father was teasing her, but the look in his eyes was completely serious. Softly, he added, 'Honestly, Alison, I don't know what is holding you back. The boy loves you…and I know that you love him back. Don't deny your emotions, there's no point doing that. Just tell him.'

Silently, Alison nodded. Sirius looked down at his wristwatch and started. He jumped out of the armchair, and began to stride towards the door. Just before he stepped out, he turned back to Alison and pressed a small box into her hands. In a whisper so soft that Alison could barely hear him, he said, 'your mother was going to wear these on our wedding day…she would probably want you to have them.' With that, he stepped out of the portrait hole, and as the portrait swung closed, Alison caught sight of him shrinking into his canine form. Outside dawn was breaking and the fire in the grate burnt low. Alison sat down in an armchair and after hesitating for a moment; she unfastened the clasp of the small box. The lid flew upwards and Alison's breath caught in her throat.  Nestled inside the box lay the most perfect earrings. They were like slender rays of moonlight frozen in time as they sparkled by the light of the fire. Afraid that she might lose them, she shut the box, and it was only then that the inscription at the bottom caught her eye. Minute handwriting was engraved into the box, and it read, '_I will always love you…_' Alison sighed and wondered if her father knew that she knew the story of what had happened between him and her mother. She leaned back against the headrest of the armchair and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep. And that was how Oliver found her an hour later. After tossing and turning in bed for what seemed like an eternity, he had decided to get out of bed and do a few laps of the Quidditch Pitch. He would have walked right past Alison had he not heard the contented sigh from somewhere near the fireplace. When he investigated the suspicious noise, he found Alison curled up in the armchair, her silky brown hair hanging over the side. The light danced on the side of her face and Oliver couldn't help but run his finger down the side of her face. His emotions for her were so mixed. There was desire, there was intense friendship, but above all, there was love. 

For a second, he considered waking her up, but as she sighed again and turned over, his heart melted. So instead, he lifted her up off the armchair and carried her up the stairs to her dorm. With his shoulder, he pushed the door open and then he placed her down on her bed. Her eyelids fluttered but did not open. He was about to leave, when suddenly, impulsively; he turned back to her and kissed her softly on her lips. When he straightened up, he saw Alicia standing at the bathroom door, smiling knowingly at him. Oliver grinned back, and placed his finger to his lips before making his way out of the dorm and onto the Quidditch Pitch.  

An hour later, he was back in the dorm and to his extreme annoyance, everyone was still asleep. He marveled at the fact that his team seemed able to sleep indefinitely despite the fact that on normal days they had to get at the crack of sawn. One would think that their bodies would have become accustomed to the early morning awakenings. However, Oliver had to admit that most of his team spent the first half hour or so of practice dozing while he tried to explain his tactics to them. Some people just weren't appreciated until they died! After pacing around the common room for fifteen minutes, he decided to go for a shower. So, he grabbed his towel, and his robes and headed for the bathroom in his dorm. he was about to turn on the tap when he suddenly remembered Cedric telling him where the Prefects' bathroom was. Grinning widely, he made his way to the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands. Leaning in towards it, he whispered the password, 'Pine-fresh' and the statue slid out of his way revealing the most magnificent bathroom Oliver had ever seen. It was softly lit by the light of a crystal chandelier and it was made entirely of pure white marble. In the center, was a bathtub that had the dimensions of a relatively large swimming pool. Along the sides were taps of all shapes and colours. Oliver draped his towel on one of the many towel racks and then turned on the tap closest to him. Foamy water that looked like it would support his weight gushed out of it, and Oliver stared at it in wonder. Somehow, just the privilege of using this bathroom made him wish that he had become a prefect. Without turning off this tap, he turned on another, and from this one bubbles the size of footballs began to float outwards and bounce off the surface of the pool. Enthralled, Oliver pulled off his shirt and was about undo his pants, when he heard a muffled giggle. Quickly, he whirled around, but to his apprehension, he could see no one. After looking into all the stalls and still finding no one, he convinced himself that he was just imagining things. He stepped out of his jeans and he heard the giggle again, only this time it was louder, and closer. Terrified that it might be another crazy girl, trying to get a peek at his "fine arse", he dove into the pool headfirst. When he surfaced, he saw the source of the giggles and his mouth dropped open.

The giggles were coming from a painting of a mermaid lying in an extremely provocative pose, her long blonde hair draped strategically over her chest, her blue eyes twinkling as she laughed at his reaction. Deciding to ignore her, Oliver proceeded to swim a few laps in the huge bathtub. As he was getting out, and the mermaid tossed the golden strands of her hair over her shoulder and winked at him, he realized that the mermaid was probably one of the main reasons that Cedric was always raving about this bathroom. 

Twenty minutes later, he was back in his dorm and to his relief, his room mates were beginning to look alive…to say that they looked awake would have been a lie. They all glared nastily at Oliver as he walked in, looking completely refreshed in his crisp black robes. Oliver ignored these looks…he had been getting them ever since he had taken to getting up early. 

When Alison walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, Oliver could tell almost instantly that she was really keyed up, almost as keyed up as he got before Quidditch matches. When she sat down next to him, she barely glanced at him as she muttered good morning. Oliver was most amused at this new Alison, one who did not feel the urge to look at him when she greeted him. Placing his arm around her shoulders, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by anyone at the Gryffindor table, he whispered, 'Are we still on for some practice after brekkies?' Alison couldn't help but laugh out loud at Oliver's feeble attempt at a South African accent. Feeling much better, she helped herself to some cereal and some orange juice. When the post arrived, she barely glanced at it, for she knew that there would be nothing for her. Oliver, however, had got a letter, and Alison looked over his shoulder as he read it .it was from his parents, and to her horror, it was to do with whether Oliver wanted to spend Christmas at home or in Spain. There was no mention of him spending Christmas at Hogwarts, and Alison was suddenly struck with the horrible thought that she might be alone at Christmas. Well, maybe not alone. She knew that Harry was going to be around as were Ron and Hermione. But try as she might, she could not bring herself to imagine a Christmas without Oliver.  Not wanting Oliver to see her distress, she turned away and proceeded to add more sugar to her cereal, her eyebrows knitted in concentration. 

She was interrupted by Oliver who asked to borrow a quill. Without meeting his eyes, she handed him her quill, and then went back to the tasking process of adding sugar to her cereal. Beside her, she could hear Oliver scribbling a note as quickly as he could and then handing it back to the owl that was waiting on the table, cracking its beak impatiently. Forcing a smile onto her face, Alison turned back to him and said, 'well, is it Spain then?' 

'What??'

'For Christmas…are you going to Spain or are you going home?'

'Don't be ridiculous…I'm staying right here…you know that!'

'I…I do?'

'Yeah…what's the point of Christmas without your…best friend?' Oliver had caught himself just as he was about to say girlfriend. Chuckling inwardly, he thought, * Let's not count our chickens before they hatch! * Alison couldn't believe her ears when he said that he had turned down Spain for her. Her heart filled with elation and it was all she could do to keep from tap dancing along the length of the Gryffindor table. So instead, she just shrugged her shoulders indifferently, before putting a spooning some cereal into her mouth. As her mind registered the sickly sweet taste in her mouth, she nearly threw up. She realized that in her determination to pretend not to care whether or not Oliver was staying for Christmas, she had added about ten large spoons of sugar to her cereal! 

Oliver burst out laughing at Alison's attempt to spit out the cereal in a suitably dignified manner, and once again realized just how lucky he was.

After breakfast, Alison dragged Oliver to Professor Agallant's room to practice for their 'impromptu' dance. She knew that there was no point practicing the prepared dance, because they had it down to a fine science. When they got there, the room was locked, and Alison congratulated herself on her foresight. Triumphantly, she pulled the keys that she had got from Professor Agallant out of her pocket and then unlocked the door. The whole room was dark, with the exception of a faint glow from the music system, the only sign that it was, in fact, the property of a wizard. She strode over to it, and began to twiddle with the knob, trying to set it to some radio station, as Oliver flicked the light switch. All at once, the room was flooded in a light, and they were both momentarily dazed, as their eyes tried to adjust to the light. For the next hour and a half, they danced, and they danced and they danced. They only stopped when Professor Agallant walked in and registered his surprise at their diligence. In an enquiring voice, he asked, 'well, I think that's enough dancing for now…I suggest you go and rest, you wouldn't want to be too tired for the competition, now would you?' Alison and Oliver nodded, Alison wiping the beads of perspiration that had formed on her face and neck. As he watched them walk down the corridor towards the Gryffindor Common Room, he murmured, 'God help the other competitors!' in all his years, he had never seen anyone as talented as Alison. There did not seem to be anything the girl could not do; she could dance, she could play sport, she was arguably the smartest witch in the school. 

As the time for the dance competition drew nearer, Alison grew more and more on edge. Half an hour before the start, she rushed off to the dorm to get dressed. She found her three roommates already there, all of them in various stages of 'undressedness'. Alison looked around the room in horror and wondered if a cyclone could have possibly done as much damage. Clothes were strewn all over the floor, there were masses of make up implements all over the beds, lingerie was draped all over the dresser, and to make things worse, the three girls sat in the middle of the room, with mascara streaked all over their face, looking completely dejected. They looked up at Alison and shook their heads hopelessly. 

Dreading the answer, Alison muttered, 'what, in heaven's name happened here?' Wiping her streaky face with the back of her hand, Katie answered, 'we…we don't know what to do! We have no clothes for a dance competition…and we look so awful, and look at us now! We probably look like raccoons!' Biting back the urge to agree with Katie's astute deduction, Alison said, in as bright a voice as she could muster, 'Oh, gosh! Is that all? Not to worry, cuz Missy Fix-It is right here! First thing you have to do is wash your faces…the three of you look dreadful! And while you're doing that, I'll find you some clothes to wear!' Ignoring the doubtful looks on the faces of her roommates, she threw open her trunk and began to pull out her clothes, and mix and match the various tops and jeans. In less than five minutes, she had decided not only what she was going to wear, but also what Alicia, Angie and Katie were going to wear. 

As the three trooped out of the bathroom, looking markedly better now that they did not look like warring Indians all set for battle, Alison threw the clothes that they were to wear at them. In three minutes, all four girls were ready, and Alison was heading out of the dorm, when Katie moaned, 'oh, but we haven't got any make up on!!!' Fearing another mini-collapse, Alison slammed the dorm door shut and then set to work. When she was done with all three of them, she glanced down at her watch, and saw to her relief that they still had ten minutes to go. Standing back to admire her handiwork, even she had to admit that she had done a pretty fine job. And from the way her three roomies were admiring themselves in the mirror, it was clear that they thought she had done a pretty good job as well. After watching them preen for a couple of minutes, Alison could stand it no longer and she began to walk towards the door. She had just grasped the door handle, when she felt herself being wrenched backwards and placed firmly on the chair in front of one of the mirrors. She could see Katie shaking her head at her in the mirror and chose to ignore her. 'What the hell are you doing now??? We're going to be late,' yelled Alison, in exasperation. 

'You didn't think you were going to go out there looking like this, did you?'

Insulted, Alison retorted, 'Looking like what?'

'Well, you could look so much better if you just wore some make up yourself!'

Her panic mounting, Alison looked down at her watch again, and saw that they had less than five minutes to go. She decided that five minutes was certainly not long enough for her to argue with them, and so she gave in. Deftly, she outlined her eyes with black eyeliner, and dabbed a bit of lipstick on her lips. When she looked at her three roommates, she could see that they were pleased, and a feeling of relief washed over her. Together, they walked out of the dorm, looking for all the world, as though they were going to take part in a beauty pageant. Had it not been for the expressions on the guys' faces when they saw their 'dates' for the night, Alison would still have claimed that the entire make up charade was not worth a penny.  

Fred's mouth dropped open as he looked at Angelina and it seemed to Alison that he was going to drool at any second. George's expression when he saw Alicia was no different. In fact, standing next to each other, at the foot of the stairs, Fred and George looked more like mirror images of each other than ever. Lee just stared at Katie, an expression of dazed wonder, mingled with pride plastered on his face. At first, Alison didn't see Oliver, for he was crouching down behind the other three guys tying his shoelaces. When he stood up, Alison's breath caught in her throat. He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater that hugged his body and emphasized his wide shoulders and strong arms. The sleeves of the sweater were rolled up to his elbows, and Alison could see the muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing as he flexed his fingers. His blue jeans were faded at the seat and at the knees and looked as though he had been rolling around on the floor in them. Alison liked it. She was nearly at the foot of the stairs when Oliver saw her, and although he did not give any visible sign, his heart sped up at the sight of Alison, looking like an angel from heaven. Her silky hair framed her features perfectly. Oliver hadn't thought that it was possible for her to look any better than she already did in classes, but today, she looked like the very vision of beauty. 

Oliver seemed unable to say anything and so he just nodded in acknowledgement of her presence. Almost as though she were mocking him, she nodded back. Together, they walked in silence towards the Great Hall where the competition was to be held. When they got there, the Hall was packed with students of all ages, milling about, sampling the delicious pastries and hors d'oerves that had been set out in different corners. Alison seemed strangely detached from everyone else…they didn't have to worry about making fools of themselves in front of the whole school. 

Oliver was the first to spot Professor Agallant standing next to the large stage that had been set up in the center of the Hall. He dragged all the rest of the Gryffindor dancers over to the Professor, who chuckled at the worried look on all of their faces. Between his chuckles, he chortled, 'You all look like you're at a funeral…loosen up, this is only a fun competition!' and then, in an undertone, he added, so that only Alison could hear, 'I wouldn't worry about a thing if I were you!' Alison smiled wanly, and turned back to the rest of her group. Alicia was talking animatedly about something, but Alison didn't hear a word of what she was saying. She was too busy scanning to crowd to try and figure out who the other contestants were. She knew that Cedric was going to be dancing for Hufflepuff because he had told her. She also knew that Cho was dancing for Ravenclaw and that Flint and Drucilla Perkins were the main couple for Slytherin. But that was all that she knew and she didn't like it when she didn't know exactly who her competition was going to be. She was jolted back to reality when Oliver prodded her hard. Startled, she looked around to see everyone staring at her expectantly. Rather sheepishly, she said, 'Ummm…what?'

The look of indignance on Alicia's face that Alison had not been riveted to her every word was absolutely priceless, and before Alison could stop herself, she began to giggle. If Alicia had been annoyed before, it was nothing compared to how she looked now. Fortunately for Alison, she was saved from what promised to be a very tedious lecture on how friends were obliged to listen to each other, by the sound of Professor Agallant's voice. She looked around to see where it was coming from and then, she saw the good Professor, standing on the stage. He cleared his throat again, and then waited a few seconds for the entire student body to settle down. When the noise levels had fallen significantly, he held the mike to his mouth, and proclaimed, 'welcome, one and all, to the First and hopefully not the last, Halloween Dance Competition!'

Adrenalin began to rush through Oliver's veins as the crowd let out a roar of enthusiasm at this announcement. His heart began to pound against his rib cage, and unknown to him, the person standing beside him was feeling the exact same way. Alison's mouth had gone dry and as surreptitiously as she could, she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. Professor Agallant waited for silence again, before he continued. 'Before we actually start our competition, I felt that it would be only fair to let the competitors warm up. So we shall have a couple of songs first. However, before we get on with the competition, I want to get the explanation of the rules out of the way. There are three different categories. The first is the Group dance that was to be prepared before hand. The second is the Couple dance, which was again, to be prepared beforehand. And the Grand Finale, of course, is the category where we put the best couple from each house in the spotlight…that's right…the Unprepared Couple Dance. As in the auditions, the best dancers will be judged on the basis of the applause that they receive, so I suggest that if you want your house to win, you clap like mad when its their turn. Of course, this will not be the only judgment of how good a group or couple is. Equally important are the opinions of our three judges. So, without further ado, let me introduce your judges to you. 

The first, a critically acclaimed dancer, as well as the author of some of the most well read books about the lives and lifestyles of Muggles, it is a great honour to present Marianne Bridelwater!' The crowd went wild, and Alison clapped her hands to her mouth to keep from screaming out loud. Marianne Bridelwater's books were some of the best that she had ever read, and her most recent one about the Muggle entertainment industry had shown Hollywood in clearest of lights, with insights into the relationships of the Rich and the Famous. She had never seen Marianne dance, though, although she had read in the Daily Prophet that she was more than competent, to say the least. True to the theme of the Ball, Marianne was dressed in tight fitting jeans with spangles down the side and a red halter-top. Oliver had never read any of her books, but if the reaction of the rest of the crowd was anything to go by, he was definitely missing something.  

When the crowd had died down and Alison had stopped gasping, 'Omigod!! Omigod!!!!', Professor Agallant continued. His voice boomed, 'The second, an idol for many teenagers like yourself, but a different kind of idol…a sporting idol. Known for his powerful throws, his unbelievable accuracy, and most of all, his ability to bring the other team to its knees with his positively lethal tactics, I present to you…Jason Carlson, Captain and Chaser for Puddlemere United!!!!' This time, it was Oliver's turn to gasp. Without thinking, he grasped Alison's hand and squeezed, he was so excited. Realising that gentle persuasion would be of no use, Alison pried his fingers apart to release her now throbbing hand. Coming to his senses, Oliver grinned at her apologetically, and taking her hand, kissed it and pretended that the kiss would make all the pain go away. Little did he know that it DID make the pain disappear almost instantaneously. Alison looked up at the man on the stage and she had to admit that the man certainly looked like the sort who could bring anyone to their knees. Powerfully built, with a shock of dirty blonde hair, and clear blue eyes, Jason Carlson was what a lot of girls would consider good looking. She had to laugh at the fact that he was wearing an Arsenal soccer shirt…somehow it had never occurred to her that Quidditch players might actually watch any other sport…Oliver certainly didn't.

Oliver could not believe that one of his Quidditch idols was standing on the stage, close enough to touch…so close that he could actually see and count the freckles on his nose. Suddenly, all the nervousness that he had been feeling took flight. He was determined to win in front of this man, and make some sort of lasting impression on him. This time, the crowd quieted down more quickly…they were all anxious to see who the other two judges were. Smiling at this rather unusual self-discipline, Professor Agallant continued once again. 'The third judge, a young lady, renowned in the wizarding world for her incredible sense of humour, her incredible good lucks…oh, yeah, and she can sing a bit too!' Unlike for the other two judges, the students didn't have a clue who he was talking about…until, Celesta Weird stepped onto the stage, her distinctive raven black locks flying around her head, as if being whipped around by an invisible tornado. Her emerald green eyes sparkled against her pale skin…she was everything that Muggle legends claimed witches were: startling beautiful, bewitching, her eyes even had the legendary sparkle, although it looked a lot more good spirited than the legends made it out to be. The crowd was momentarily silent and then, with the likeliness of a bomb exploding, people began to scream…it was mass hysteria at its upper limit. Alison looked around her and saw Oliver squinting at the lady…he seemed to be the only one in the whole crowd who didn't recognize her. But then again, he couldn't claim to be a big fan of music, and so one couldn't blame him for not having heard of the Weird Sisters. On her other side, Angelina, Alicia and Katie were jumping up and down, screaming at the top of their voices. Their boyfriends were just staring at Celesta in a besotted sort of way…and Alison could see why. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Oliver and was most relieved to find that he was not staring at Celesta but rather looking around at other people's reactions. When the screaming died down slightly, Professor Agallant took the chance to announce, 'Well, it's fine with me if you want to delay the start of the competition…but then don't blame me if you have no time at all to get ready for the competition.' The noise died down almost instantaneously and Professor Agallant grinned. He had known that would bring the crowd to their senses. He paused for a few seconds, before proceeding. 

'The last, while nowhere near as famous as the other three, by his own humble admission, is a man, who needs no introduction here in Hogwarts. One of the most popular head boys in the history of this school, it gives me great pleasure to welcome BILL WEASLEY!!'

Alison watched on in amazement as the crowd burst into thunderous applause and whistles. A tall, very attractive man, with fiery red hair walked onto the stage, beaming widely all the way. Then suddenly, it struck her…this was the legendary Bill Weasley, brother of Fred and George Weasley, and one of the people that Oliver looked up to the most as the brother that he had never had. She looked over at Fred and George, one of the few who were not joining in the applause. The only other person she could see who was standing as still as the twins was Ron. Looking back at the twins, she saw the looks of disbelief in their eyes, disbelief that their own brother hadn't told them about this, disbelief that he had actually been chosen to be a judge. But then again, Bill had received critical acclaim for his victories at both national and international dance competitions. She could see some girls swooning, and Alicia was trying her best not to look too excited, for George's sake. Alison chuckled as she remembered Alicia telling her how she had had a huge crush on Bill before she had even noticed George, and she stored it in her mind to tell Oliver at a later stage. 

This time the applause went on the longest, and Professor Agallant did not so much as attempt to stop it. When it did eventually stop, Bill joined the other three judges at a long table that had been set up by the stage, and introduced himself. Alison could tell that he was just as excited as any student in the Hall to be meeting the other three judges, and she took in the slight reddening in Celesta's cheeks as she shook hands with Bill. The tiny wink that he shot at the singer did not go unnoticed either. Professor Agallant cleared his throat before proclaiming, 'Now that the boring part is out of the way,' and at this, he grinned apologetically at the four judges, 'we can move on to the warm up. All, I can say is…HAVE FUN!'

With that the lights dimmed and disco lights began to flash as 'Fly By' by Blue began to blare from the speakers that were hidden from view. Alison glanced at Oliver and saw that he wasn't looking in the least bit nervous. This discovery surprised her…she would have thought that he would have been feeling more like he did before a Quidditch Match. Noticing Alison's intense regard, he raised his eyebrows enquiringly, to which she responded with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. Grinning, he placed his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. Alison didn't tense up…this was just like they had practiced. Together, they began to sway, becoming one with the music. In a low voice, Alison said, 'don't do any fancy moves now…save that for the unprepared dance…we don't want anyone to know what a brilliant dancer you really are.' Oliver nodded and then said, 'do you know who Jason Carlson is?' 

'How could I possibly not know? You talk about him so much, sometimes it makes me wonder if you are infatuated with him.'

'Well, I have to impress him. If I do, I can ask him for a try out for Puddlemere United. So the stakes in this competition have just been raised…a lot. We HAVE to win, Alison…we HAVE to.' 

Alison nearly laughed out loud at the determination in his voice, but then, she realized just how much getting into Puddlemere meant to Oliver. How exactly he planned to get in on the merit of one dance competition that was won, Alison did not know. But one thing she did know…it was her duty as Oliver's best friend to make sure that he got what he wanted. Even if it meant overcoming her nervousness.

They danced together for the next three songs, talking rather than listening to the music, swaying rather discreetly amongst the huge crowd that surrounded them, a crowd that was going wild with enthusiasm. Oliver's mention of Puddlemere United was the first that Alison had thought about the future. She couldn't think of one thing that she could do well enough to earn herself an income. When she mentioned this to Oliver, he laughed out loud, attracting stares from the couples around them…and it must have been an odd sight. Two people who looked so comfortable in each other's arms, swaying slowly even to the fastest and most energetic songs, and occasionally erupting into fits of laughter. But such was their relationship: it was unique. They were interrupted from this incredibly private conversation by Professor Agallant who announced that it was finally the time that they had all been waiting for. The start of the Halloween Inter-house Dance Competition. Alison felt her heart begin to pound, not so much out of nervousness but out of excitement and, more importantly, determination. Without wasting any more time, he called up the Ravenclaw House Group, and then left them to it. As the group trooped onto the stage, with Cho and her partner, Roger Davies in the lead, the Hall was plunged into darkness. A slight murmur rose from the crowd but they were quieted by the first rasping chords of Linkin Park's In the End filtering to the ears. The lights rose on the stage, and on the stationary figures from Ravenclaw, and then as Chester's voice began to murmur the lyrics, the statue like figures came to life, moving in tandem, their pace increasing and decreasing with the intensity of Linkin Park's lead singer's voice. The crowd began to sway and cheer as the moves got more complex, and the dancers all swapped places, giving all the couples to stand at the front of the stage. Definitely one of their best moves was when the group split into two separate halves and then began to mirror each other's moves. As Alison swayed, she felt Oliver's breath on the back of her neck, and looked up at him. He winked at her and lowering his lips to her ears, he whispered, 'Don't worry…the only thing they've got going for them is Cho.' And Alison had to admit that while it was indeed clear that the group had put a lot of effort into their performance, they had chosen a bad song to dance to. With the large amount of rap and the relatively slow music, Alison could not imagine choosing the song for a dance competition. But as the group launched into its final moves and the song drew to a close, Alison realized that they had the disadvantage of not having any Muggleborns amongst them. As the last notes of the song faded, the crowd burst into applause and Alison glanced over at the judge's table. The expression on Marianne Bridelwater's face was impassive while those of the others were a bit easier to read. And to Alison's dismay, the other three all seemed suitably impressed. Her heart sank, but as the Ravenclaws came streaming off the stage, she clapped enthusiastically with all the rest. She could see the apprehensive look on Cho's face and was about to hurry over and congratulate her on her performance, but Harry got there before her. And from the way things were going…Alison didn't think Harry wouldn't have been too pleased with her had she interrupted them. 

Alison leaned over to Oliver and whispered in his ear to look at Harry and when he did, he frowned. Alison was most annoyed at this reaction. When he saw her raised eyebrows, Oliver said in an annoyingly condescending voice, 'She's the Ravenclaw Seeker! Now Harry's going to be all goo goo eyed at her in the next match.' Alison shook her head resignedly and said' God, is that all you ever think about????' She had meant it as a purely rhetorical question, but the answer made her face flame. She felt his arms around her waist, and when she looked up at him, he said, 'actually, it isn't the only thing in think about. I think about you.' Alison was so stunned at this proclamation that she didn't move. Oliver chuckled inwardly at her reaction. He loved it when she was so dumbstruck…she looked even more gorgeous. Alison eventually recovered, but for the next two songs, by Hufflepuff and Slytherin, she couldn't think about anything else. She was so preoccupied that she didn't even notice Cedric winking at Oliver as he went past, when he saw his arms entwined around Alison. Of course, Oliver did not see any reason to set him straight. After all, by that night, she would be his. Oliver had to admit that Slytherin were pretty good. Marcus Flint was a very good dancer, although Oliver would never admit that to anyone. Watching him up on the stage, looking so smug, with his arms around Drucilla, Oliver wanted to physically throttle him for even trying to harm Alison. When Slytherin finished, and jumped off the stage, pumped up, Oliver gently shook Alison, to wake her from the fantasy world that she had been living in for the past five minutes and informed her that they were up next. Almost instantly, Alison pulled away form him, and began to gesticulate wildly. Within a matter of seconds, the rest of the group was standing with them, and Alison gave them some last minute pointers. 'Ok, group, we've watched all three of those groups up there, and we KNOW that we are better than all of them. We KNOW that we can whip their ass in this category, so let's not be squeamish when we're doing it. Let's sweep the floor with em! And no nerves! Confidence is the order of the day.' Although she was telling her group not to be nervous, she could feel the beginnings of butterflies in her stomach, and she tried her best not to think about them. She had to win this, for Oliver. And with this thought powering her on, she charged onto the stage, followed by the rest of the group. The lights went off again, and Alison took her position in front of Oliver and after making sure that the other three couples were ready, she nodded at Professor Agallant, who was standing in the wings controlling the lights. 

The ripping beat of Freestyler by Bomfunk MCs began to belt from the speakers and Alison launched herself into the dance with all of her heart. Around her, she could see the rest of her group doing the same, and watching the crowd go wild, she felt her heart fill with pride. Alison knew that although their dance was very technical, it flowed and looked just like the street dancing in the back alleys of Durban. In a word, it was amazing! Alison felt Oliver's arms close in around her and she tensed her legs readying herself for the hardest part of the dance. The flips. Then in unison, all four girls were flipped over the heads of their partners and the crowd, particularly the Gryffindors, went ballistic. Then the guys proceeded to do the most complex series of steps that Hogwarts had ever seen. Alison had to give it to Oliver…when he had first shown the steps to her, she had been very doubtful as to whether the other guys could do it. But now, now they were just as good as Oliver was. He had done an incredible job with them. As the guys reached the end of their little display, Alison looked at the girls and nodded her head. This was the signal. They count to three and then all four of them catapulted themselves to the front of the stage, where the boys caught them, just before they fell of the edge. The crowd gasped at this split second timing and then gasped again, as the couples began to switch partners at the speed of lightning. The star like formation that Alison had been so insistent on perfecting paid off, as the crowd drew in their breath when all four girls leapt into the air. As they fell back into the waiting arms of their partners, their arms stretched above their heads, the crowd whistled and cheered in the manner of a sellout crowd at a Quidditch World Cup final. Alison sucked in her breath as she fell, she knew that the next step would have to be times just perfectly, and so, the moment, her hands touched that of the other four girls, she bent her knees, and collapsed to the ground. Like a Mexican wave, Alicia who was on her right did the same, followed by Angelina and then, lastly, Katie. At the same time, the boys had also been collapsing to the ground, but in the opposite direction, creating the effect of a magnificent starfish. And just as the last boy dropped to the ground, the song ended, and all of them heaved a huge sigh of relief to themselves. There had been so many places where things could have gone completely wrong. But all the practice had paid off. They didn't need the crowd's reaction to tell them that they had walked away with that category. 

The clapping and cheering went on for a good five minutes and as the group trooped off the stage, all emotionally and physically drained, they were all congratulated heartily by the crowd, and they all received more than a few pats on the back. Adrenalin was still surging through Alison's bloodstream and from the look of exhilaration on her partner's face, she could tell that he felt the same. Although Professor Agallant announced a short break for the couples to prepare themselves for the next round, the last thing that Alison felt like doing was resting. She was too pumped to do anything as boring as resting. As the energetic beat of Mambo Number 5 by Lou Bega began to filter from the speakers, Alison grabbed Oliver's hand and began to sway to the music. Looking at her incredulously, he asked, 'Jesus, Alison! Aren't you tired?'

'Tired? No! Aww, is poor Ollie tired already?'

'I'm not tired!' answered Oliver, a little too indignantly. 

Smirking slightly, Alison placed her arms on his shoulders and whispered, 'oh, yeah? Then prove it!'

Resignedly Oliver let himself be lead to the dance floor, and was thankful that there were others like Alison who were not tired. Had she been the only one, they would have been eh only couple on the floor, and THAT would have been embarrassing. Meanwhile, Bill had excused himself from the judge's table and was making his way over to Cedric and some of the other guys in Oliver's year. All of them turned around to greet him, and Fred and George appeared from behind him, looking most ill-used. In a hurt voice, George said, 'well, I would have thought that you could have at least told the two of us! It wouldn't have hurt, and its not as though we would have told anyone!'

Bill grinned at their identical expressions and had to laugh. This, however, only made them more annoyed and without a word, they walked back to their dates in a huff. Bill turned back to Cedric to find him laughing so hard that it looked like he would explode, his face was so red. Bill waited for him to stop before asking him what he had come over there for in the first place. In a low voice, so that only Cedric could hear him, he asked, 'So, who's the babe with Oliver? I would have thought he would have told me if he had a girlfriend!'

'Babe is right! She turned me down, would you believe that? Her name's Alison, Alison Adams, and she's Oliver's best friend. They may be best friends, but there is NO denying the sexual chemistry between them. I mean, you saw them up there before. It was like they were meant to be together.'

'But they're not going out?'

'No, for some weird reason that I cannot figure out, Oliver's scared to take the leap.' Bill frowned at this…Oliver had never been scared of anything before. He had always been the sort to zoom in on a target, once it had been spotted. But then again, he had never known Oliver to take interest in a girl before. Bill glanced over at Oliver and saw that he was deep in conversation with Alison. Suddenly, Alison threw back her head and laughed…it was then that Oliver caught sight of Bill looking in his direction. He pulled Alison towards him, whispered something in her ear, and then began to drag her towards Bill, a huge beam on his face. 

When he reached Bill, he embraced him warmly, and then pulled away to introduce Alison. Before he could do so, Bill said, 'don't bother…Cedric's just been telling me all about you…Alison.'

With a grin, Alison retorted, 'and I deny every single bit of it!'

Bill had to grin at that, and then, he turned to Oliver and said, 'well, I didn't expect someone as obsessed as you to write every day, but at the very least, you could have sent me an owl every so often. You had me worried that Flint might have had you killed, what with you being Quidditch captain and all that.' He didn't miss the look of unmistakable pain that fleeted across Alison's face at the mention of Marcus Flint and he tucked it at the back of his mind to ask Oliver about it later. Oliver looked rather sheepish, and mumbled something about time, and work, and Quidditch under his breath. One thing Bill did hear were the words, 'I'm sorry.' Slightly taken aback, he realized just how much Alison must have changed Oliver. The old, and slightly arrogant Oliver would never say sorry, even if he were. Bill decided that he liked the new Oliver better, and that consequently, Alison had to be a pretty remarkable person. One thing was for sure, she was VERY attractive. Bill promised to meet Oliver after the competition and then, he took off back to the judges' table. Oliver watched him go, and said, 'I really should have written…I really should have!'

Alison chuckled to herself. Trust Oliver to beat himself up about something as insignificant as that. She was in the process of reassuring him that while Bill would have felt a lot better had Oliver written, he didn't seem to hold any sort of grudge against Oliver for not having written, when Professor Agallant stepped back onto the stage, and said, 'Alright…contestants, I want you near the stage so that you can come up quickly. The order will be the same as with the first round and this time, there will be no break in the middle. Good luck to all of you.'


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Roger Davies and Cho made their way up onto the stage, and Alison could tell from Cho's strained smile that she was nervous as hell on the inside. She noticed Harry standing less than a few feet away, and he wore a strange expression on his face. Alison recognized it to be a mixture of acute jealous and pride. She could understand exactly what Harry was going through…she could just imagine the torment she would be put through had she been forced to watch Oliver dance with some other girl. 

She was distracted from her thoughts by the sounds of a very familiar tune…possibly one of her favourite tunes of all time: Dancing in the Moonlight by Toploader. This, unlike the previous choice by Ravenclaw, was a very good song to dance to, and Alison was most impressed with Cho's choice. And as Oliver and she swayed together, as did the rest of the crowd, Alison had to admit that Cho was a very good dancer, she just didn't have the benefit of a good male dancer, which really was a huge pity. Although Roger Davies moved relatively well, and in time to the music, he was nothing spectacular, and that in a nutshell, summed up the Ravenclaw performance. Although it wasn't bad, it was nothing better than average. Alison felt sorry for Cho, and she looked over at Harry to see how he thought Cho was doing. Even from where she was standing, she could see that he was clenching and unclenching his jaw every time Roger placed a hand on Cho. 

She thought it was so sweet the way Harry was so protective of Cho. She was just wondering whether Cho felt the same way, when Oliver whispered in her ear. Distracted, she craned her neck to look around at him, and asked him to repeat himself. So he did. 'I think we made a good impression on the judges, Bill seemed impressed. I just hope that we do well in the this round too.' Alison spun around and glared at him indignantly. 'What do you mean, you hope?' she hissed. 'Is there something that you don't remember, cuz if there is, tell me now, and we can go practice somewhere.' Chuckling inwardly at her tempestuous reaction, Oliver replied, 'No, its just that…well, Flint and Diggory are pretty good.' Then seeing the dismayed look on Alison's face, he added hurriedly, 'Not as good as us, though…' Alison stared at him intently, as though trying to read his innermost thoughts and Oliver felt most vulnerable under her unflinching gaze. In a threatening voice, she muttered, 'Yeah, well, we are going to win, and you are going to go to Puddlemere United…if it's the last thing that you do!' In that instant, Oliver regretted telling Alison his dream for the future for he had seen how obsessed she got when she had a goal in view…kind of like him, really. 

Ravenclaw's song ended and Alison clapped long and hard, along with everyone else. She cast a glance at Harry, and saw, to her amusement that he seemed more than a little relieved to have his girlfriend back by his side. Ravenclaw was followed by Hufflepuff. Alison could understand why girls were so attracted to Cedric. Not only was he very good looking, he certainly was no klutz on the dance floor. His steps were perfectly in tune to that of his partner's, a pretty Hufflepuff fifth year who seemed incredibly excited to be dancing with the famous Cedric Diggory. 

As their dance drew to an end, Alison began to warm up, and began to move a bit quicker, trying to get the adrenalin pumping. She was glad that Slytherin had chosen the song that they had…it was an upbeat number called 'Original Prankster' by 'Offspring'. Alison paid little attention to Marcus Flint's and Drucilla's dancing skills, but what little she did notice, terrified her. There was no denying it. These two definitely had a chance of winning this round. They moved together, like they had never been doing anything else. Their timing was perfect and the song perfectly suited to their admirable capabilities. Trying to convince herself that Oliver and herself were far better than the two on the stage, she concentrated on running through the steps with Oliver, who seemed far more relaxed. 

As she heard the last few chords, her heartbeat quickened, till it seemed like a monotonous buzz in her chest. The adrenalin rush was tremendous and her head began to feel light. As the crowd burst into applause in appreciation of Slytherin's fine performance, the back of Alison's throat went dry and Flint's smirking face as he looked at her didn't make her feel any better. But the moment Oliver placed his hand on her arm, and whispered in the most confident voice that she had ever heard him use, 'We are going to win this and wipe that ugly smirk off his face, aren't we Alison?'- ever since that moment, her nervousness took flight and it was replaced by determination the likes of which Alison had never known. Now she had a goal, and Oliver knew from the way her jaws were set that he had said just the right thing. Now ANY nervous energy would be channeled towards a purpose-the sole purpose of winning. 

Together they stepped onto the stage, and Alison squinted under the bright glare of the spotlight. Almost as though it were reading her slightest emotions, the lights went off, plunging the hall into darkness. And then, she heard it…the first notes. And as she heard the notes, and the lights gradually dawned on them, like the light from a newly rising sun, Oliver and she began to move in tandem. They had got the steps down to a fine art, so they didn't so much as think about where they were stepping, where there arms were to be at a precise moment. Instead they let their emotions take over. They danced like they felt, and how they felt was like a pair of highly charged batteries, raring to go. Alison had chosen the song 'When you're looking like that' by 'Westlife' because the song captured how she felt about Oliver, and unknown to her, it captured how Oliver felt about her. Now, as the music flowed over them, and they launched into the breathtaking series of steps, of twirls that Hogwarts had ever seen, the crowd grew silent. They just stared. Normally, Alison would have been worried by the silence, but during the period of time when Oliver held her in his arms, during that time, she didn't hear the silence. She was in a separate world, one where the only other person that mattered was on that stage with her. They were so attuned to each other's movements, and as they both glided through their steps, all they saw was each other, all they heard was the music and all they felt was the beating of each other's hearts. When the song ended, and Oliver grasped Alison around the waist, pulling her towards him, the crowd remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. Almost as though awaking from a blissful dream, Alison was suddenly struck by the silence, one that would have sounded more in context in a tomb that had been untouched for centuries. And for that eternity, Alison's heart sunk as she wondered if maybe something had gone terribly wrong. However, before she was allowed to dwell on this though for more than a few seconds, the crowd exploded with the size and force of a nuclear bomb. The applause was deafening and Alison could see the amazed expressions on the faces of the audience. Whistles rang out and reverberated around the hall, and as the two of them walked off the stage, Oliver's arm still around Alison's waist, Alison saw the judges clapping as well. She grinned widely, and assumed this to be a very positive sign. 

Oliver and Alison walked back to where they had originally been standing, and were clapped on the back, and hugged by people that they had never spoken to before. Harry was ecstatic, and as he hugged Alison and she saw the slightly annoyed look on Cho's face, she whispered, 'Harry, perhaps, you should seem less enthusiastic about our performance, and more enthusiastic about Cho's. Just a bit of friendly advice.' Puzzled, Harry glanced over his shoulder at Cho, and when he saw the expression on her face, he realized that Alison was right. Wearing an apologetic look, he walked back to Cho, who seemed to brighten up the moment Harry appeared by her side again. The clapping and hugging had just about died down, when Alison saw Marcus Flint standing not too far away from them, immersed in conversation with a very flustered looking Drucilla. Alison grinned at the stricken look on Flint's face and it was all she could do to keep from walking over to him, and rubbing their brilliant performance in his face. 

Before Oliver knew it, Professor Agallant called Cho and Roger Davies back onto the stage, and the Hall buzzed with excitement. This was it…the hardest part of the competition. The unprepared couple's dance.  Much to Oliver's surprise, Cho did not seem to be at all nervous, but then, as he looked closer, he saw that her expression was one of resignation. Oliver had to feel sorry for her. She was definitely a very good dancer, and had she had an average male dancer to accompany her, she would have had a very serious chance at the cup. As it was, Roger Davies was pulling down her whole performance. 

As Cho walked past her, Alison gave her a wan smile, to encourage her. Her emotions were in a huge conflict. She wanted her friend Cho to do well, but at the same time, she wanted to win. Pushing all unpleasant thought from her head, she watched as Cho and Roger stood on stage, like lambs in a slaughter house, both wearing an identical look of terror on their faces. This time, when the lights dimmed, the crowd did not start whispering as they had for all the previous dances. Instead, they all strained their ears to hear the first notes of the mystery song. And they hadn't very long to wait. No sooner had the lights dimmed than the sounds of 'I'm A Believer' by Smashmouth began to flow from the speakers. Alison noticed the momentary panic on Cho's face when she realized that she had never heard the song before, and silently, she thanked her stars that she had grown up listening to Muggle music. The panic was but fleeting, as Cho began to move to the music, uncertainly at first, and then, as time went by, she grew in confidence. To Alison's surprise, and slight apprehension, Roger was doing very well. He seemed to be very confident, and even managed to complete some rather complex moves. 

Oliver smiled as he heard the first words of the song…it had been one of the songs that he and Alison had practiced to when preparing for this particular round, practice that consisted primarily of turning on Professor Agallant's radio and dancing to whatever songs were playing. He turned to look at Harry and saw that he had a rather fixed smile on his face. Catching his eye, Oliver winked knowingly, and Harry coloured visibly, before turning his head away. Oliver saw him saying something to Ron, who happened to be standing next to him, his arms wrapped securely around Hermione's waist. Oliver glanced at Alison and saw that her face looked rather tense. *We can't have that, now can we???* he thought to himself, and wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close to him. He could feel her muscles tensing and relaxing, as she tried to loosen herself for their turn. Oliver wasn't too worried, though. Even Alison at her very worst, was better than any other dancer in the school. And although Oliver had to admit that Roger and Cho were doing very well, he was holding on to the belief that that night would belong to him and Alison alone, in more ways than one. As Roger and Cho neared the end of the dance, the Ravenclaws applauded loudly, glad that they finally had something to cheer. They had been rather subdued all evening…they realized that they had no chance of winning the other two rounds. The relief of living up to her housemates' expectations showed on the faces of the two dancers as they stepped off the stage. Harry hugged Cho tightly, ensuring her that she had been absolutely spectacular, and that, in itself, seemed to cheer Cho up a great deal. 

The next team to be called up was Hufflepuff, and as Cedric walked past Alison and Oliver in order to reach the stage, he smiled at them, and muttered, 'this competition's still wide open, Wood!!' Alison had to smile at this remark, as it was accompanied by a confident toss of the head. She couldn't help but like Cedric…he was a very nice person, despite his belief that he could get anything that he wanted. And she admired the friendly banter between Oliver and Cedric…it was always there, but unlike Flint, Cedric never crossed the fine line between competitiveness and underhandedness. 

The crowd roared as the highly popular Cedric stepped onto the stage and they roared even louder when they heard the song that Cedric and his pretty partner would be dancing to. *Bon Jovi might be Muggle, but he sure does have a fan following in the wizarding world! * mused Alison as she saw and heard the reaction around of the people around her. Personally, she had never been a huge Bon Jovi fan, but the song that was currently playing; 'It's My Life' had been her theme song for a particularly rebellious period in her life. Alison couldn't resist the temptation and she began to sing along with the rest of the crowd. She was most startled when she heard Oliver singing along as well, his deep voice echoing in her ear. She looked up at him, and her surprise must have shown in her face for he shrugged rather nonchalantly, before bending down and practically yelling, 'My father loves this song!' Alison grinned widely…she had a feeling that she would like Oliver's dad. She looked back at the couple on the stage and yet again, she felt the twinge of self-doubt deep within her chest. No sooner had it established its presence that Alison pushed it away with as much force as she could muster. Instead, she returned to swaying with the rest of the crowd, and more importantly, with Oliver. She caught sight of Flint standing but a few feet away, and felt a shiver crawl up her spine as he glanced over at her and gave her a twisted smile, one that spoke volumes. Alison tried to keep from shuddering as his eyes ran down her body and then up again, and an appreciative smirk formed on the corners of his mouth. 

Alison turned away, and Oliver, feeling her tense, looked at her in surprise. Alison did her best to rearrange her face into what she hoped was a suitably innocent expression. Oliver wasn't totally convinced, but he knew that there was precious little that he could do to force Alison to tell him what the matter was. When the Hufflepuffs had finished their performance, they staggered off the stage, looking drained, not just physically, but also emotionally. Alison had to give it to them; they had been very, very good. The Hufflepuff section of the crowd cheered loudly, they obviously thought that Hufflepuff would walk away with that category. They hadn't counted on the next two performances, however. 

Flint and Drucilla walked onto the stage amid a mixture of hissing, and catcalls, but the Slytherins for their part were very supportive of their representatives. Alison waited to see what song they would get, hoping in her heart that it would be the slowest song ever, one so slow that it would be impossible for them to dance to it. However, it seemed not to be, when the first notes of 'Keep On Moving' by Five began to drift into the halls. Alison sighed and did all she could to keep her spirits up as she watched Flint and Drucilla go through their dance almost as though they had practiced for it. Alison had to admit that while Flint was possibly the vilest person on the planet, he was definitely a very talented dancer. Drucilla, for her part, certainly lived up to her reputation, as one of the greatest beauties of the school. Her long, blonde hair caught the light and shimmered as though each strand were molded from molten gold. Oliver could see that Alison was losing her hope and continued to whisper encouragement in her ear. With each piece of encouragement, Alison's confidence began to build and by the time Slytherin finished their performance, she was as ready as she would ever be, and rearing to go. As Oliver and she made their way onto the stage, she felt as though someone had turned down the volume on a television set, and so all she could hear was her own breathing and that of Oliver. She could see the crowd screaming and cheering, but she couldn't hear them, and for that, she was thankful. As she heard the start of the song that she was going to dance to, her mind froze, and for a split second, she could not believe that this was happening to her. She had hoped for a song that would allow her to move to it, a fast song, but what she got was something entirely different. She couldn't believe that Professor Agallant had used this song at all, what with all the possibilities. 'Save Tonight' by Eagle Eye Cheery had always been one of Alison's favourite songs, but it most definitely had a lusty edge to it, that opened the floodgates of possibility. Before she knew it, Oliver had swept her up in his strong arms. The strong Latin beat was possibly one of the most sensual Alison had ever heard, and as they danced, they lost consciousness of the world around them. The music flowed over them, as they twirled and flipped, looking for all the world, as though they had done nothing else all their lives. Gradually, the crowd stopped singing along, and simply watched in awestruck wonder, swaying along to the tantalizing beat. Oliver's arms caressed Alison's perfect frame, and their dance was nothing short of sizzling. They danced as though they were making love, with the same tenderness, the same eagerness, the same passion. It was both sensual and classy at the same time, and when it was all over, and the last note had been played, the two dancers on the stage realized, as if awakening from a magical dream, that they were on the stage, in front of the whole school, and then some. Oliver felt his face going red when he realized that his arms were still wrapped tightly around Alison's waist, and quickly let go of her. This time, the crowd did not wait for even a fraction of a second before they burst into applause, the likes of which had not been heard in Hogwarts and would not be heard there for a long, long time to come. There were several cries of 'Encore', not to mention appreciative whistles and hoots as the two of them stepped off stage. Immediately, they were surrounded by fellow Gryffindors, who very nearly killed them by thumping them hard on the back, or, as the case may be, hugging them incredibly hard. Oliver looked over at the judges' table, and saw Jason Carlson with a look of awe on his face. This only added to Oliver's elation and in the spur of the moment, he grabbed Alison, pulling her away form all her 'fans' and whispered, 'I think we've made a favorable impression on Carlson…' Alison grinned back at him, and it was all Oliver could do to refrain from dropping down on one knee before her and proclaiming his unwavering love for her. As it was, he managed to hold himself back, and remained content with just giving her a gentle squeeze to show his appreciation. 

When the cheering had finally died down after that scintillating performance, Professor Agallant took up the mike once again, and announced, 'Well, that was CERTAINLY very entertaining…we felt that rather than keep you waiting here for the judges to make their decision, it would be better for the results of the competition to be announced at the Ball. Besides, the judges did express their desire to stay on for the Ball, especially a Mr. Bill Weasley, so I felt obliged to give them some excuse to do so. So, I encourage all of you to get ready for the Ball tonight, and I hope that you enjoyed this dance competition!'

The crowd seemed slightly annoyed at not being told the results at that point, but they were appeased by Professor Agallant's explanation. 

Alison was making her way out of the Great Hall, accompanied by Oliver, when she heard Bill Weasley's voice saying, 'Hey you two!' Startled, both of them turned around to see Bill and Jason Carlson standing behind them, with wide grins on their faces. Before Oliver could ask what they were doing there, Bill said, 'How about you show us around, hmmm? First, I'd like to see what the Gryffindor Common Room looks like…how about it, Wood?' Struck dumb by the fact that his Quidditch idol, Jason Carlson was standing so close to him, Oliver just nodded. Jason's grin widened at the expression on Oliver's face, and Alison was about to step in and relieve Oliver when Bill caught her arm, and whispered, 'Hey, Jason wants to ask Oliver something, so why don't you show me to the Gryffindor Common Room?' Slightly suspicious as to what was going on, Alison complied and led Bill to the portrait of the Fat Lady. To her enormous surprise, the Fat Lady blushed visibly and dissolved into a state of giggles at the sight of the former head boy of Hogwarts. Chuckling softly, Bill whispered, 'I think you might want to say the password, now…' startled out of her shock, Alison shook her head and muttered the password under her breath. Still giggling, the portrait swung open revealing a large hole and beyond the hole, lay the Gryffindor Common Room. The fire was burning warmly in the grate and as a special treat, there were candles hovering in the air, at strategic corners of the Common Room. The flames danced across the walls, as though playing a silent game of hide and seek with the evasive shadows. With a low whistle, Bill let out his breath and exclaimed, 'Whoa, it's great to be home!' 

Back outside the Hall, Oliver watched in stunned bemusement as Alison walked off with Bill. He began to follow them, when Jason motioned for Oliver to accompany him out into the grounds. A little puzzled, Oliver did so, and when they got outside, Jason turned to him and asked, 'well, I'll be frank with you, Oliver…the only reason I agreed to be the judge of this competition was to try and recruit some new players. As you might know, Puddlemere United has a lot of experience, which in itself is a good thing. However, it does have a bad side to it, and that would be the fact that most of my players are well into their late thirties, and soon, they're going to have to retire. At such a time, I want to have some players with some amount of experience ready to step in and take their place.' When Oliver started with excitement, Jason held up his hand, and Oliver was forced to bite his tongue and wait until Jason had said what he wanted to say. Jason continued, 'I've heard an awful lot about you, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to meet you in person. I would like, very much, for you to come and try out for a place on Puddlemere United's Reserve Team.' Oliver's eyes nearly pooped out of his head as he started goggle eyed at his idol! He could not believe what he was hearing. In as calm a voice that he could manage, he said, 'I would like that…when're the try outs, Mr. Carlson?'

'Call me Jason, and the try outs are in the month of March. I know that seems like ages away, but I just wanted to know what you thought of the whole thing…'

'I'll be there!' 

Jason smiled at the barely suppressed excitement in Oliver's voice and then said, 'we'd better get back to the castle, or else Alison might wonder if you've been kidnapped.' Grinning, in a bemused sort of way, Oliver let himself be led back to the castle. Once inside the castle, he began to make his way towards the Gryffindor Common Room, when he noticed that Jason was not following him. Instead, he was standing in the Entrance Hall, looking very unsure of what to do next. Oliver raised his eyebrows at him questioningly and asked, 'Why are you just standing there? Come on…' 

'Well, do you suppose it would be ok for me to come to the Gryffindor Common Room…I mean, I never went to Hogwarts, and so it might be inappropriate for me to…' He trailed off, and Oliver couldn't help but laugh at the worried expression of Jason's face. At that moment, Professor Agallant came striding out of the Great Hall, and a beam spread across his face when he saw Jason and Oliver standing together, in the otherwise deserted Hall. He ushered them towards the Gryffindor Common Room before taking off in the direction of his office. Oliver whispered the password and then motioned for Jason to step through the portrait hole before him. 

They found Alison and Bill standing in the middle of the Common Room, surrounded on all sides by a sea of Gryffindors, all intent on getting a closer look at the famous Bill Weasley. Alison had long before given up on trying to disengage herself from the huge crowd and make her way to her dorm to get ready. When Jason Carlson stepped in, the crowd seemed to be in two minds. Like a worm split right down the middle, the crowd parted to let Jason and Oliver join Bill and Alison. Eventually, after a good twenty minutes, the crowd dispersed and Alison was able to make her way up the stairs to her dormitory. Oliver watched her go, and he fingered something in his pocket, nervously wondering what her reaction would be when she saw it. But before he could give in to the fear, he strengthened his promise. *I will tell her tonight, one way or the other!*

Pushing his nerves to the back of his mind, he made his way to the showers, and to his chagrin, he was followed closely by both Jason and Bill, both of whom were eager to get the scoop on the situation with Alison. Oliver tried as firmly as he could to get them to leave him alone with his thoughts, but after a few futile attempts, he realized that short of lifting them up and placing them outside the door, there was precious little he could do. So he was forced to endure a long, and tedious line of questioning. For his part, Jason kept rather silent, restraining himself to the odd comment now and again, while Bill launched himself into a full-fledged attack on Oliver. 

'How could you not tell me?? I know we drifted apart, Oliver, but how could you not tell me??' moaned Bill.

In as patient a voice as he could muster, Oliver mumbled, 'What the hell are you on about?'

'Don't you 'what the hell' me! You know exactly what I'm talking about! So stop acting like you don't.'

'Bill, I honestly don't know what you are on about…'

'The GIRL!! Alison! I have never ever known you to so much as talk to a girl about anything other than Quidditch. And now…now you're dancing with a girl, on a STAGE!!' 

'Yeah…so?'

'So?? I'm gonna toss you in the lake if you don't come clean with me! Do you like her?'

This question was followed by an uncomfortable silence, interrupted only by the monotonous drone of the shower. The shower was turned off abruptly, and Oliver clambered out of the shower, with a fluffy towel wrapped tightly around his waist. Without meeting Bill's eyes, he marched out into his dorm and began to change. Undaunted, Bill and Jason followed him out to where he was toweling his hair off vigourously and in a muted whisper, Bill hissed, 'Don't make me make this common knowledge, Oliver. So, I'll ask you again…do you like her?'

Oliver avoided Bill's unrelenting gaze and then, as though coming to a decision, muttered, 'Yes…I like her.' 

Bill let out his breath, and when Oliver looked at him in surprise, Bill shrugged his shoulders and said, 'I knew this would happen one day…despite your vehement belief that girls would never interest you.'

'Girls don't interest me…it's just one girl…just Alison.' As Oliver realized what he was saying, he blushed furiously, and his face felt as though it were on fire. Jason laughed out loud at this evident discomfort, and was joined by Bill, and eventually, by Oliver. Fifteen minutes later, Oliver was ready and when Bill and Jason had walked out of the dorm, he quickly went over to where his clothes were lying on the floor and pulled something out of the pocket of his pants. It glinted momentarily in the soft light before disappearing into the depths of his tuxedo pocket. 

*****

When Alison walked into the girls' dormitory, she found it to be in as much a state of disrepair as before the dance competition. However, her roommates appeared to be in a much more stable condition, much to her relief. They were all in varying stages of getting dressed. Angelina was trying unsuccessfully to get her hair to twist itself into curls, Alicia was (unsurprisingly) looking for her lucky lingerie, though why she needed it remained a blessed mystery to Alison. Katie was trying to line her eyes with black kohl, but was only succeeding in smudging it around her eyes, making her seem, for all the world, like she was going to a fancy dress party dressed as a raccoon. They all looked up in relief when Alison strode into the room. Without giving her so much as a moment to herself, they launched themselves at her, pleading with her to fix their individual problems, moaning pathetically about losing their boyfriends and other such horrific scenarios. Sighing to herself and wondering out aloud what they would do without her, she proceeded to fix all of their problems. She looked at Angelina in disdain as she tried to curl her hair with her wand, and finally, when she could stand it no more, she wrenched open her trunk. After a good three minutes of rummaging, she triumphantly pulled out a tube of hair mousse. She then led Angie to the bathroom and held her head under the water. Then, she sprayed liberal amounts of mousse onto her hand, and ran her fingers expertly through Angelina's hair, scrimping it up and deftly twisting the bottom of each strand. When she was satisfied with her work, she stood back and admired Angelina's lovely set of curls. Angelina beamed widely, and then rushed off to 'do her face'. 

Alison then turned to Alicia, who was still looking for a rather revealing piece of lingerie that George had given her for her birthday. Alison joined in the frantic hunt, and much to her amusement and Alicia's embarrassment, it was found in the most unlikely place…Alicia's trunk. Having solved that problem, she quickly supervised the cleaning up of Katie's face, before outlining Katie's eyes in a thick black line of kohl. Katie was absolutely delighted at the result and Alison had to admit that it did quite suit Katie. 

Once this was done, Alison looked down at her watch to find that she sill had an hour to get ready. She knew that she would only need about half an hour to get dressed and so she decided to take a shower. Her muscles ached, and at that moment, nothing seemed more appealing than a long, hot bath to work the kinks out of her back. *Of course, I'll bet anything that a massage would undo the knots a whole lot quicker than a bath.* And then, as an afterthought, she wondered * Hmmm…maybe Oliver would be willing to oblige.* This time, she didn't bother to push the thought away…she could see no harm in a little fantasy. 

When she emerged from her bath, a good forty minutes later, she felt so much more relaxed. Tiny beads of water slid down her back and formed a puddle at her feet, as she walked across the bathroom to get her towel. Vigorously, she toweled herself off and then, after tying her towel securely around her chest, she walked out of the bathroom. It came as a pleasant surprise for her to see that her roommates were adding the finishing touches to their attire. She smiled at the look of horror on their faces when they realized that she was nowhere near ready. In a panicked voice, Katie exclaimed, 'Alison!! Hurry up! You have ten minutes to get ready.'

Calmly, Alison replied, 'Actually, I have half an hour…Oliver can wait, if he wants to, that is…' 

And wait he did. When he saw Angelina, Alicia and Katie walking down the stairs, he had imagined that Alison could not have been far behind. But as the minutes passed by, and Alison did not appear at the top of the stairs, the twins and Lee could wait no longer and agreed to meet Oliver at the Ball. Eventually, Bill and Jason left as well, Bill muttering something about taking Celesta Weird, for 'one helluva ride'. Oliver did not stop to consider the implications of that statement; he was too busy worrying why Alison had not arrived yet. Several times, he contemplated going into her dorm and checking to see that she was all right, but each time, he restrained himself. Nervously, he fingered the object in his pocket, going over what he was going to say, time and time again. However, when she appeared at the head of the stairs, Oliver stopped dead in his tracks, like a rabbit caught in the glare of a car's headlights. 

His breath caught in his throat, as she walked down the stairs towards him. She had pinned a part of her hair up and let the rest hang loose. The result was awe-inspiring. Two stray strands framed her face. Her skin glowed as though lit from within by some divine illumination. Her eyes sparkled like two gems set into the beauty that was her face. And her gown…when Oliver saw it, he could not take his eyes off it. The silver sparkles caught the light and danced upon the fabric like inlaid diamonds. The dress emphasized Alison's breathtaking figure, from her toned arms and long, slender legs to her petite waist. In a word, she looked stunning. As she drew closer, Oliver could see that long strands of silver dangled from her ears, like lone rays of silver moonlight that, like him, had been ensnared by her exquisite beauty.

When she was less than two feet away from him, he was startled from his daze. He saw the expectant look on Alison's face and struggled to find the words that would do justice to how she looked that night, but he could find none. So instead, he muttered a few words under his breath and as he did, a rose formed in the upturned palm of his hand. As it formed, it changed its colour from pure snow white to a deep, blood red. Without a word, he placed it strategically in Alison's hair, further enhancing her magnificence. Then, he held out his arm, and Alison took it, a slow smile forming on her face. And with that smile, any hint of doubt as to whether or not his plan was a good one was driven firmly from his mind. Never had Oliver felt so much desire burning in his soul. 

Alison looked at Oliver in wonder as he positioned the rose in her hair. The brush of his fingers against her cheek as he did so, sent a tremor through her person. Alison tried her best not to stare at this Oliver, one who looked (and smelt) better than anyone Alison had ever encountered. His handsome frame was covered in a dashing black tuxedo, and his hair had been spiked up ever so slightly, lending him a dashing edge. It was all Alison could do to keep from wrapping her arms around him and telling him exactly how she felt. 

When the two of them walked into the Great Hall, they headed straight for their friends, who were standing in the corner. As they walked through the hall, people of all gender fell silent. The pair of them looked so perfect together, both so attractive, both oozing charm from every pore. Guys gawked at Alison, not bothering to hide their lust from their dates. The girls, for their part, were not standing idle. The Oliver they were seeing was the Oliver that they had all dreamt of going out with. And their jealousy of Alison was intermingled with a certain degree of respect. She was, after all, the girl who had changed an unchangeable man. 

Cedric had his arm draped around the shoulders of the Hufflepuff he had been dancing with, and soon, Alison learnt that her name was Hannah Abott. She seemed like a nice enough girl, perhaps a little air headed, but nice all the same. Alicia, Angie and Katie were already on the dance floor with their dates and soon after Oliver and Alison arrived, Cedric dragged his date off towards the dance floor as well. What ensued was a very awkward silence. Oliver was used to being around Alison all the time, but somehow, the romantic atmosphere of the Great Hall seemed to change everything. Almost as though he sensed his discomfort, Bill made his way towards Oliver, and Alison was most amused to see that he had Celesta Weird hanging on his every word. Bill began to talk to Oliver about Quidditch strategies, and although Alison loved Quidditch, she could not bear the idea of talking about it all the time. So, instead, she began to talk to Celesta. To her surprise, she found the young singer to be very down to earth and friendly. In a voice that hardly masked her curiosity, Alison asked, 'So, not meaning to be inquisitive, but what is it like to be famous?' 

Celesta smiled and said, 'Well, I would suppose that you would know all about that…'

'What do you mean?'

'Oh, come on…when you came in, practically every hot blooded male in the Hall turned to look at you…and for good reason too.' When she saw Alison's discomfort, she quickly continued, 'That's a good thing, I think. I suppose being famous can be quite interesting…I mean, you never know what you might find around the next corner!'

'What, you mean like a stalker or something?'

'Yeah, stalkers sometimes, prank callers, journalists…especially journalists. They're always waiting for you to slip up, and then make a huge scandal of it. It's like you have to live your whole life in the spotlight, and THAT can be the most annoying part.'

Oliver had soon realized that he had isolated both Celesta and Alison from his conversation and he felt rotten about it. So, in an attempt to make up for his atrocious behavior, he offered to get them something to eat from the buffet table. Alison graciously declined, but Celesta, when she saw the wide spread on offer, dug in with gusto. Oliver, during the time that he had known her, had realized that Alison had a great weakness for chocolate and so, he made sure to pour a large amount of chocolate onto his pudding. When Alison saw the pudding, her mouth began to water, against all her conscious efforts. The soft pudding was soaked in a thick, rich, deep brown chocolate sauce. From where she was standing, less than a metre away from Oliver, she could smell the chocolate as it wafted past her nose, and with every second the temptation grew in intensity. Oliver's and later, Bill's taunts didn't help matters in the least. In a mocking, falsetto voice, Oliver said, 'Gee, Bill…isn't this pudding just smashing?'

'Oh, not just smashing, it's amazing!'

'And the chocolate…so rich, so creamy…it's sinful…don't you agree?'

'Oh, of course, definitely the best chocolate I have EVER tasted…and that's saying something.'

'And do you know what the best thing is, Bill?'

'What…'

'The tiny pieces of chocolate mixed in with the sauce…'

'Mmmm…yeah…'

'And they just melt in your mouth, melt into a little pool of sin…'

During this entire conversation, Celesta had watched in amusement, as Alison had grown increasingly agitated. But what Alison finally did came as a shock to both her and Bill, but most of all, it came as a shock to Oliver. When she could take it no longer, Alison sighed in mock exasperation and said, 'Oh, well, since it's so good, I suppose I have no right to resist it in the first place.' Oliver smiled and held out his plate to Alison for her to sample the chocolate, but what she did stunned him. She completely ignored the plate in his outstretched arm, but instead raised her index finger to Oliver's lips and wiped some of the chocolate from the corner of his mouth. Then, with a demure look of innocence twinkling in her dark eyes, she deliberately licked the chocolate from the tip of her finger. Both Bill and Celesta's mouth were agape in astonishment as this obviously sensual gesture. Neither Oliver nor Alison noticed as their two companions made their way to the dance floor. Oliver's heart was thudding against his rib cage as he tried to make sense of what Alison had done. Finally after spinning in circles for what seemed like an eternity, Oliver's mind gave up, and he let his well tuned instincts take over. Just as she was turning away, he closed his fingers around her slender wrist. She looked back at him, with surprise and a hint of amusement shimmering in her eyes. She let herself be led out of the Hall. Oliver didn't say a word until he was outside the castle and standing by the lake. He opened his mouth to say something that he had wanted to say from the moment he saw Alison, but then he closed his mouth again. He wanted to get it just perfect. After all, how many times would he get to do this? As he was pondering over what to say, and over how to voice his long hidden emotions, Alison looked out over the lake. She wondered what Oliver was thinking about, but she had learnt from experience that it was best to let him tell her what was on his mind in his own time. The moonlight shone onto the glassy surface of the lake, creating a shimmering silver pathway. The stars were reflected in the water like tiny pinpricks against the deep black of the lake's depths. 

Oliver watched Alison studying the surface of the lake; a look of complete serenity on her glowing face and suddenly the words came to him, like a gift from the heavens. He placed his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. She began to protest, but Oliver placed his finger on her lips, silencing her. She was so close that he could feel her warm breath on his neck.  

He began to whisper in her ear, in a voice that was so soft that Alison could barely hear it. The words, however, made Alison's heart beat with excitement. Oliver murmured, 'I always wondered why people would give their hearts to someone else. I often wondered what love was and why people made such a big deal of it. But now I realize that one's mind has little control over one's heart. Today, when I looked within my soul, I found that I had lost something. I had lost my heart to you. I love you to the length and breadth and depth that my soul can reach. My love for you has become more consistent than my pulse. I love you every second, every minute, every hour, every day. I love you by day when the Sun's golden rays shine down upon us. I love you by night when the flickering candlelight makes you look all the more like the angel that I know you to be. I love you freely, with no restrictions. With every breath, this feeling gets stronger and more intense. I love you purely, and nothing makes me happier than to see the dawn of a smile on the horizon of your luscious lips. I love you with a fiery passion that refuses to be doused, not even with the coldest of water. I love you so much that it makes me weak at the knees. And I promise to love you, through all the smiles, and all the tears for the rest of our lives. I love you, Alison Black.'

With his every word, Alison's heart beat faster until she felt sure that he could hear it as clearly as if it were his own. But unknown to her, Oliver's heart was beating equally as hard, and as he finished, he felt as though he had run a marathon race. Alison opened her mouth to speak, but once again, Oliver pressed his finger to her lips. The feel of his fingertips made Alison's lips tingle with anticipation of something more. Slowly, she moved closer to him, until they were less than an inch apart. At that moment, Oliver drew something from his pocket, and as it caught the moonlight, she gasped. For there, in Oliver's hand, lay the most elegant silver chain that Alison had ever seen. It shone with an inner radiance and at that moment, the notion that Oliver had stolen a precious ray of elven moonlight to make this chain, did not seem in the least bit unlikely to Alison. Groping for words, Alison let Oliver fasten the chain around her neck. She looked up at him, his features clearly defined in the milky moonlight, and a small smile formed on her lips. She drew closer to him, as close as she possibly could, and then, pressing her head against his strong chest, and lifting her head slightly, she whispered, 'I love you too, Oliver Wood.' And in this position, she could hear his heart thumping in union with hers. But, before she could continue, Oliver leant towards her and brushed his lips against her forehead. Alison could feel herself melting in his warm embrace, and closed her eyes as he trailed feather soft kisses across her eyelids, and down the length of her nose. Her body glowed with desire and when his lips finally reached hers, the sensation set Alison's body alight. It was like a spark that ignited her very soul, like the wick of the candle bursting into flame. Like a kindling flame, the heat spread through her entire body, starting at her lips, and then making its way right down to the tips of her toes. Oliver wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer still. Oliver's lips still had the lingering taste of chocolate on them, and as the kiss deepened, Alison lost her awareness of everything around her. At that moment, the whole world seemed contained in the small area in which the two of them were standing, their bodies so close that each could feel the heat radiating from the other. At the back of Alison's mind, she was faintly aware of Oliver's fingers tracing lazy circles on her bare back, sending tremors of pleasure running through her body. 

Oliver, with the little presence of mind that he had left, could not believe what was happening. Alison's lips were so tender against his, and warm…they were unbelievably warm. Her long slender fingers had found their way around his neck and were, at that moment running through his dark brown hair. Oliver marveled at the ease with which she fitted into the crook of his arms, almost as though they were meant to be. He marveled at the silky smoothness of her flawless skin against the tips of his fingers. But as the kiss deepened, and Alison's lips parted slightly, an invitation that not even Oliver could resist, he lost consciousness of everything else around him. 

Oliver knew not how long he stayed wrapped in her embrace, their bodies pressed against each other, but he was interrupted from this dreamlike world that consisted only of him and Alison, by someone clearing their throat. Alison made to spring back, but Oliver had anticipated this reaction, and pulled her back to him. Much to Alison's embarrassment, Cedric was standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest, and the hint of a smile playing across his lips. But Oliver didn't seem at all perturbed by Cedric's presence and instead, grinned widely at him. With his arm still wrapped tightly around Alison's narrow waist, he looked at Cedric, an enquiring look on his face. As though suddenly remembering that he had been sent for a purpose, Cedric said, 'Oh, yeah…you two might want to be inside, they're announcing the winners of the dance competition. Unless of course, you had something else in mind.' Oliver winked at Alison and replied smoothly, 'Well, I did actually have something else in mind…but that can wait till later, cant it, Alison?' Alison's face began to burn with embarrassment, and she thanked her stars that no one could tell that she was blushing. Quickly, she murmured, 'Ummm…yeah, we'd better get inside.'

A smile lit up Harry's face when he saw that Oliver had his arm wrapped protectively around Alison's waist and that his hair was slightly messy, a sure sign that something had happened. He whispered this in Cho's ear, and she giggled, and then, against Harry's protests began to drag him over to where Alison and Oliver standing next to Cedric and Hannah Abbott. In a knowing voice, Cho piped up, 'Hey, Alison…where were you? You were gone for an awfully long time…where DID you find them, Cedric.' 

With the grin of Cheshire cat, Cedric replied, 'do you REALLY want to know where I found them, or do you want to know what they were doing?'

Deciding that this had gone far enough, Oliver glared long and hard at Cedric, but when Cedric didn't get the message, Oliver was forced to resort to more drastic means. As Oliver's foot connected with Cedric's shin, they both let out yowls of pain, and then began to hop around in a most comical way. Oliver, though stopped after a few seconds, and just glowered at Cedric, but poor Cedric continued to hop around for a good three minutes. By the time he had stopped, everyone in the vicinity who had witnessed the action had dissolved into laughter.

Professor Agallant watched in bemusement at this sequence of events, and wondered faintly how these students could possibly be considered mature enough to face the world. But then, he remembered being quite the carefree lad when he was young. When the laughter had died down, he held the mike to his mouth and proclaimed, in what he hoped was a very mysterious air, 'Well, now that we have all danced a fair deal, I think that it might be wise to put our competitors out of their misery and announce the results of the dance competition. That way, they can enjoy themselves as well…unless of course, they have already been doing precisely that.' At this, he winked at Alison and Oliver, and both of them had the sneaking suspicion that the Professor had heard Cedric's suggestive comments. After only the slightest pause, the professor continued, 'The awards for each of the three different categories will be given by a different judge, and as there are four judges, the last judge will give the overall award to the team that has performed the best in the competition. In order to reduce the time that this ceremony will take, I, or rather, the judges, will only announce the first place winners of each category.'

The crowd roared its approval, and Oliver felt his heart rate speed up. In hindsight, he wondered how his heart had managed the night, what with the number of times, it had sped up, and then slowed back down. He looked around as Professor Agallant handed the mike over to Celesta Weird and noticed that all his teammates for the group category were standing around him and Alison. And on their faces, Oliver could see the anxiety that he could feel welling up within him. He turned his attention back to the stage as Celesta Weird began to speak. In her enchanting voice, she said, 'Far be it for me to prolong this. I know only to well what it is like to be standing in the crowd, praying that the judge is not a condescending prat who likes the sound of his own voice. I have but one thing to say before I announce the winner. I have to voice my astonishment at the caliber of the dancers that Hogwarts seems to have tucked away, making our choice all the more difficult. But, all in all, I doubt that anyone could disagree with me when I say that the winner for this category is, without a shadow of a doubt, Gryffindor!'

Alison clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from shrieking out loud, but she needn't have bothered, for the rest of her team was more than making up for her silence. Finally, Alison gave in to the excitement of it all, and joined Oliver, and indeed, the rest of the team in jumping up and down in absolute ecstasy. Together, they all filed onto the stage, and received medals from the famous singer, medals that shone like miniature suns on a hot summer's day. 

When the hoots and whistles from the Gryffindors in the crowd, not to mention, from the ones who had been on the stage, had finally died down, Professor Agallant handed the mike to Jason Carlson. Running his hand through his straw coloured hair, he said, 'Like my colleague, Celesta, I, too, am not particularly fond of waiting for results to be announced. So, without further delay, the winner, and a particularly difficult choice, I might add, would have to be Gryffindor…again!' The word 'again' though was lost in the thunderous applause that reverberated through the Great Hall, as Alison and Oliver walked onto the stage to accept their medals, dazed beams on their faces. 

Finally, the winner for the third and final category was announced by Marianne Bridelwater. Her face broke into a wide beam as she took the mike from the Professor Agallant. Confidently, she said, 'I think our decision for the winner of this category was unanimous…yet again, a clean sweep, I might add…the winner of the Couples Unprepared Dance is Gryffindor!!!' The uproar that burst out at this announcement was tumultuous to say the very least. Oliver grinned widely as he dragged a stunned Alison up onto stage. He had known all along that they would win. Alison had been absolutely amazing, and although no one had told Oliver this, he knew that he and Alison shared a chemistry that was electric, both onstage and off. 

After the crowd had calmed down, and Alison and Oliver had been thumped on the back so many times that Alison began to feel like a punching bag, after that, Bill Weasley took the mike, and almost at once, the crowd fell reverentially silent. He hadn't been the most popular head boy of Hogwarts for no reason. It was rumored that even the Slytherins had quite liked him, and that was saying something. Struggling to keep his happiness from shining through, Bill said, 'I think that it's pretty obvious who the overall winner is…need I say it?' At this the whole crowd yelled in the affirmative. So Bill continued. 'The winners, and it gives me great pleasure to say this…is Gryffindor!' Alison's heart leaped with excitement, but she was so drained that she barely had the energy to walk onto the stage. She needn't have worried, even if she didn't have the energy, the crowd would have been more than willing to help her on her way. This time, all the contestants for Gryffindor piled onto the stage, but Bill handed the beautifully sculpted crystal trophy to Oliver and Alison. The crystal caught the light, and the two silent figures carved eternally into it were the striking image of Oliver and Alison. Even several years later, when Alison looked at the trophy, she had to wonder if Prof Agallant had magically enchanted it to take on the features of the winning couple. 

As Oliver and Alison held the trophy aloft together, their teammates crowded around them, the crowd roared its approval, and Alison was thrilled to see that even Cho and Cedric, who had been on the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams respectively, seemed genuinely happy for them. After a few seconds of holding the trophy aloft, the couple in the limelight handed the trophy to their other teammates to share the glory. And then, Oliver did something that he had not planned on doing, not even in his wildest dreams. While their teammates were screaming and jumping up and down, Oliver looked at Alison, and wondered how anyone could look so beautiful. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her close to him, and then kissed her soundly on the lips. Though the kiss was nowhere near as deep as the previous one, it sent a wave of pleasure running through Alison. Her face burned when she heard the crowd's hoots growing louder, and feeling the unnatural heat radiating from Alison's face, Oliver moved his lips to her forehead, while still keeping his arms wrapped around her. *This isn't so bad* he thought, and unknown to him, Alison was thinking the same thing.   

The rest of the night passed by in a whirlwind of color, music and dancing. Before she knew it, the ball had come to an end, and Oliver was bidding Bill and Jason Carlson goodbye. To his utter delight, Jason said that he would send an owl the next day, arranging for Oliver to try out for the Puddlemere United Reserve Team. For his part, Oliver remained calm and collected, until he saw them off, that is. Then he turned to Alison, his eyes shining with excitement, and he said, 'tonight has been the best night of my life. And you know what, its not even because my idol asked me to try out for his team. It's because I realized that I wasn't being stupid to even pursue the thought of holding you in my arms.'

Alison wondered what she had done to get a boyfriend as caring and sensitive as Oliver. His eyes ere shining with enthusiasm, and Alison felt her knees start to give way as she looked into the depths of his chocolate brown eyes. Moving close to him, she whispered, 'I don't know why, Oliver, but somehow, I just don't fancy going to sleep right now…' Oliver looked at her, and raised his eyebrow provocatively. Pressing his body close to hers, he murmured, 'Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?' Alison pulled away just enough so she could look him in the eye, while saying, 'all I said was that I wasn't feeling sleepy.' In a sensual voice that sent shivers of anticipation up Alison's spine, Oliver replied, 'Tell you what…why don't we go for a walk…'

Alison agreed, and wrapping his arm around her narrow waist, he led her towards the Quidditch pitch. All the way there, they talked of things of little consequence. Towards the end, Alison noticed that Oliver was limping slightly. When she enquired about this, he replied, with a faint grimace on his face, that Cedric's shin had been incredibly hard. Alison tried to keep from laughing as the image of Oliver and Cedric hopping about on one foot danced through her mind. By now, they had reached the Quidditch pitch, and Alison finally persuaded Oliver to let her have a look at his leg. 

Oliver tried not to wince as Alison prodded at his foot to check the extent of the damage that he had caused himself. So instead, he concentrated on other things, like the sky above them, inlaid with a thousand stars, or indeed the soil, that was slightly damn beneath him. But somehow, his mind and eyes always returned to Alison, and as he watched her massage his slightly swollen foot, he felt a desire stirring deep within him. So far, he had been sitting on the ground with his leg stretched out, and Alison had been sitting at his feet. But now, he leaned forward, and ran the tip of his index finger along her cheekbone, and along the line of her lips. Gently, he pulled her towards him. Alison, for her part, offered little resistance. Her head was now resting against Oliver's strong chest. When their lips met, Alison lost all consciousness of everything around her. As the kiss deepened with the rising moon, Oliver pulled Alison to the ground beside him, their lips still locked in a tender embrace. Oliver's hands caressed Alison's back in slow sensual circles and Alison was all too aware of her relatively bare back. But as her hands slipped under Oliver's shirt and she felt his hot skin against her fingers, all thought of what was right and was wrong were pushed firmly from her mind. *After all* she thought, *there is no right, there is no wrong…there is only what you do, and what you do not do*

Five minutes later, Alison realized that *this* was definitely one of those things that you do not do. Abruptly, she pulled away, and Oliver, now lying shirtless in the grass, felt his heart stop for a bone chilling moment. And in that moment, he wondered if he had been wrong to even consider this ever happening. During the course of events, Alison's hair had come undone and it now hung around her head, hiding her face from Oliver's view. Immediately concerned, Oliver sat up, and placed his arms around Alison. In a soft voice, he murmured, 'What's the matter, Alison? Are you ok?'

In a barely audible voice, she replied, 'I…Oliver, this…this is wrong. I, I'm sorry if I led you on. I cant do this…I'm sorry.' 

She couldn't look him in the eye, and not really wanting to know the answer, Oliver asked, 'What cant you do?' 

'I can't have sex with you…not now, not tonight'

'Hey…Alison, I don't want you thinking that you've disappointed me, you haven't. Look, I promise that I will never pressure you to go further than you want to. You're free to stop whenever you want, and you don't have to explain yourself to me. I LOVE you, and that's all that matters. Now, why don't I get you back to your dorm? You look tired.'

Alison looked at Oliver with wonder in her eyes. And at that moment, love flooded through her and she hugged Oliver for all she was worth. A little surprised, Oliver hugged her back and murmured, 'Now what made you think we were going to have sex anyway?? I mean, I do have SOME taste!' Realising that he had just insulted her, Alison smacked him lightly over the head, and Oliver pretended to faint. Then, picking up his discarded shirt and jacket from the ground, he stood up. Without bothering to put his shirt back on, Oliver led Alison back to her dorm, where he kissed her goodnight. As Alison looked at Oliver, his bare chest glinting with tiny drops of sweat, the muscles in his stomach accentuated by the dim light cast by the lamps…as she looked at him, standing there at the door of her dorm, she almost regretted her decision not to do what her body had been willing her to do.

Oliver made his way back to the Common Room, and flopped into one of the armchairs there, absent-mindedly wiping the sweat off his chest using his shirt. When Alison had pulled away, he had been so very scared that she had decided that things just wouldn't work between them. Thank god, she had just not wanted to have sex. That was not to say that the thought did not appeal to Oliver, but he had meant every word that he had said to Oliver, especially that he would never pressure her to go any further than she wanted to. But as Oliver recalled the way her body had felt pressed up against his, and as he recalled the feel of her fingers running along his back, his heart began to pound again. Leaning his head against the backrest, he thought *God, I could really use an icy cold shower right now, that's for sure!*

*****

The next morning, Oliver awoke to find himself still wearing the pants of his tuxedo. Part of him was disappointed and the other part, relieved that nothing untoward had happened. Groggily, he rubbed his eyes and then made his way to the bathroom to wash his face. On the way there, he noticed that he had flung his shirt and coat over the sink, and in a flash, all the events of the previous night came flooding back to him. With a thud, he sat down on the edge of the bathtub and wondered how he was going to act around Alison. He didn't have much time to think about it, because less than a few minutes later, he heard the door opening slowly. Cautiously, he peeked around the door to see who it was, and to his surprise, he saw Alison standing nervously in the doorway, unsure of whether or not to enter. Putting her out of her strife, Oliver walked out of the bathroom towards her. When she saw him, her face broke out into a huge smile, and she gave him a quick hug. At the same time, she was careful not to linger too long, lest his shirtlessness tempt her into doing something inappropriate. 

As it was still early morning, Oliver knew that there would be no one around. Slightly puzzled at Alison's sudden appearance, he followed her into the Common Room. Alison gestured for him to sit, and the familiar worry building up inside him, he obliged. Alison, however did not take a seat, and instead, began to pace back and forth in front of him. As though she had come to a decision, she suddenly stopped and turning to Oliver, she said, 'Oliver, after what happened last night, I think…I think we need to lay some ground rules. Neither of us is 18 yet, and so, it's both illegal and unwise for us to…umm…for us to have sex. I…'

Before she could continue, Oliver pulled her down into his lap, in one liquid motion. Softly, he kissed her on the forehead and then, he murmured, 'Alison, you seem to be under the impression that ALL guys are testosterone driven animals. I assure you, we're not! at least, I'm not. Just being with you is enough for me, and we will take things at your pace. I told you this last night…now promise me that you wont worry.'

'But, Oliver, THAT'S the problem. You say that you wont pressure me to go further than I want to, but the problem is that when I'm with you, I'm not totally in control of myself. When I'm kissing you, my body wants me to go further. And…and it scares me.'

'Don't worry…right now, I don't want to go that far either. Slow and steady wins the race, don't you know?'

Then, he wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her towards him, until her head was resting against his bare chest. Absent mindedly, Alison sighed with comfort, and ran her finger along Oliver's six-pack. This action sent a tremor of desire through Oliver, but, with all his might, he pushed away any thoughts that this action conjured up. He forced himself to concentrate on massaging her shoulders gently and slowly. Before he knew it, Alison had fallen asleep, and resting his head on Alison's, Oliver closed his eyes as well. 

*****

The ray of light shone through the window and under its glare, Alison's eyelids fluttered open. She could see the watery sunlight streaming through the window, and suddenly remembered what day this was. It was Christmas. Sighing contentedly, Alison turned on her side and placed her head on Oliver's outstretched arm. She watched his eyelids flutter slightly, most probably as he tried to defend the Quidditch hoops from the best Chasers in the world. Gently, she kissed him on the nose. A low moan escaped his lips, and Alison grinned sleepily. Deciding that it was much too early to wake Oliver up, she settled for the more appealing option and snuggled closer to him. Oliver placed his muscled arm over him, unconsciously, and pulled her closer to him. There, in his tight embrace, Alison felt as though together, Oliver and she could take on the world. She could not believe that it had already been a month and a half since their first proper kiss at the Halloween Ball. Somehow, when they were together, time flew so fast. Alison had been dreading the Christmas holidays, because she had been convinced that Oliver would decide to go back to spend some time with his parents. But, to her delight, he had decided to stay back. What made the whole thing even more perfect was the fact that close to everyone else had left Hogwarts for the holidays. So she and Oliver were free to do as they pleased. Alison had been most depressed the day that her roommates had left for the holidays. The thought of spending the night all alone in her dorm didn't appeal to her at all. So, instead, she decided to spend the night with Oliver. He had been most surprised and more than a little happy to allow her into his bed, and into his arms. Not that they had actually had sex. No, they just slept in the same room, and apart from a few close calls, like the previous morning when Professor Lupin had come in to tell Oliver something, things had gone all right. The previous morning, Alison had been hurled out of bed by a frenzied Oliver wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, and forced to hide under the bed. And none too soon, for no sooner had she ducked under the bed, than Professor Lupin had come striding in to discuss something with Oliver. It had seemed like an eternity before Lupin left, but that might have had something to do with the fact that Alison was freezing thanks to the thin shirt that she was wearing. 

Alison must have drifted back to sleep, because when she woke up again, it was to find Oliver stroking her hair gently, his head propped up on his arm. When he saw that she was awake, he kissed her gently on her nose, murmuring 'Merry Christmas, babe…' before Alison could respond, he planted a kiss squarely on her lips, and needless to say that it took her breath away. Giggling, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating from him. She could feel his fingers moving slowly along the length of her legs, caressing them ever so gently, as he pressed his lips more urgently against hers. Oliver lips moved from her lips down the nape of her neck, leaving a trail of feather soft kisses that set Alison afire. Just then, the door of the dorm burst open and Cedric came striding in. Alison yelped and pulled away from Oliver so abruptly that she toppled over backwards onto the floor. Oliver, too, was propelled to the floor on the other side of the bed. Without breaking his stride, Cedric helped Alison up from the floor, and then, turning to Oliver, he said, 'you might want to read this letter…its from Puddlemere United.' At this, Cedric tossed a letter at Oliver. Alison was suddenly very aware of her relative nudity and as surreptitiously as possible, she pulled on a pair of pants that were lying nearby. Unfortunately for her, Cedric noticed and his raised eyebrow made her face flush with embarrassment. When she looked down at the pants, she cursed under her breath. Just her luck that she had to pull on one of Oliver's pants. At that moment, Oliver finished reading the letter, and looked up at Alison, his eyes shining with excitement. When he noticed that Alison was wearing his pants, he sidled up to her, and muttered, 'Alison, why, exactly, are you wearing my pants??' unfortunately, Cedric heard him, and with a wink, he said, 'My, my, Alison, you have certainly gotten into Oliver's pants, haven't you?' Oliver took a swing at him, and from the muffled gasp, Alison could tell that Cedric had felt it.

Stifling a giggle, she left Oliver to help Cedric up off the floor, and instead, she grabbed the letter from Oliver's hand. As she read it, her eyes widened.

_'Oliver, _

_I apologize for not getting in touch with you after the Halloween Ball, financial problems and the like. Anyway, I thought it would be good if you could come and try out for Puddlemere United on the 27th of March. I know that March is still more than three months away, but I wanted to give you plenty of notice. As you can tell, your presence on the team would be greatly valued. If there is any conflict of dates, please contact me as soon as you possibly can. _

_Hope to see you seen,_

_Jason Carlson.'_

Alison squealed with excitement and threw her arms around Oliver's neck. Pleasure flooded through her when she saw the look of ecstasy on Oliver's face. When she finally let go of him, Cedric thumped him on the back, and yelled his congratulations. 

*****

Alison couldn't seem to concentrate in Potions. She kept glancing at the empty seat next to her, and wishing that Oliver could get back earlier from his tryout for Puddlemere United. It was evidence of how much Oliver wanted the job that he had been willing to try out on the night before the big Quidditch match against Slytherin. The match against Ravenclaw had been nothing short of a breeze. Harry had captured the snitch before any of the Chasers had had the chance to score. Not that Alison was complaining. The Gryffindor team worked together seamlessly, as though reading each other's thoughts, and lately, even Oliver couldn't seem to find any criticisms of the way that they played. Just the thought of Oliver made Alison's heart ache. She had grown used to having him around all the time. Their love was a marvelous thing…they could still talk about anything and everything, and were best friends before they were anything else. Oliver had promised to be back by midnight at the very latest, and they had agreed to meet down at the Quidditch Pitch, along with Harry and Sirius. Alison smiled as she thought of the amicable friendship that had sprung up between her father and Oliver. Together, they meant everything to Alison. She was shaken from her reverie by a cold voice behind her…a cold voice that drawled, 'Aww, is ickle Alison missing lover boy?' Her nerves already strained by her lack of concentration, Alison snapped, 'Why don't you just shut the fck up, you son of a bitch?' Unfortunately for her, Snape heard this little altercation, but unfairly chose to ignore Flint's role in it. Scowling, he descended on Alison and said, in a greasy voice, 'Miss Adams, I wish I could say that I was shocked at your language, but after suffering close to a year with you in my class, I must say that it is exactly the sort of thing that I have come to expect of you.' His tone changed sharply, as he snapped, 'Detention today. I expect to see you here at 8:00 tonight. Tardiness will not be accepted.' Alison's hands balled into fists and she wanted to scream with frustration. Determined not to give the vindictive Professor a chance to extend her detention to the rest of the week, she controlled her anger, and had to be content with directing her anger at Snape's turned back. For the rest of the lesson, Flint tried to bate her with snide comments that got dirtier with time, but Alison steadfastly ignored him. 

Alison slammed the door to the Potions classroom shut…after that horrible detention, she didn't think that Professor Snape could possibly make her life any more miserable. When she had entered the Potions classroom promptly at 8:00 earlier that night, he had presented her with a long list of all the tasks that she was expected to do. Alison's heart had sunk as she had read through the list, which included cleaning out the slime covered cauldrons and scrubbing the grimy floors without magic. The tasks had taken her all of three and a half hours, and now Alison's black robes were covered with dried gobs of slime, and coated with a thick layer of dust. Her hair was in tangles from Alison running her fingers through them repeatedly in frustration. Her robes were slightly ripped where they had caught on the sides of the tables as she had bustled around the classroom. All in all, she looked a mess. Looking around, she realized that the corridors were empty and she set off at a run towards the Gryffindor tower. She wanted to clean up a bit before going down to the Quidditch pitch to meet Oliver. She turned the corner and rammed hard against someone. As she registered who the someone one was, her mouth fell open in shock.

Oliver was standing in front of her, his hair slightly tousled. He enveloped her in a bear hug, and it was then that Alison noticed a small bottle in his hand. She pushed him away gently and taking the bottle from his hand, examined it. She could see the last few drops of a thick green liquid inside. She looked up at Oliver questioningly, but before she could enquire as to what the contents of the bottle were, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. The bottle crashed onto the floor unheeded. He maneuvered her so that she was resting with her back against the wall, and then lowered his lips to hers. But from the moment their lips touched, Alison knew that something was wrong. His kiss was not gentle, as it usually was. His lips were rough against hers and Alison longed to pull away from the stench of alcohol that was permeating from his mouth. His kiss grew more urgent and Alison could feel his insistent tongue snaking its way into her mouth. She tried to push him away, gently at first, then harder, but he refused to be dissuaded. When he finally broke away for a breath, he moved his lips to Alison's ear and muttered throatily, 'you're all dirty…I can smell the filth. How like you, Adams…I knew you were nothing but a dirty sl*t.' Alison gasped in horror, and tried to push him away, the rage coursing through her body, but almost mockingly, he pressed his body against hers, holding her arms above her head in an effortless gesture. Alison's heart began to beat faster. Oliver was beginning to scare her. Her eyes widened as he drew out a pair of handcuffs that glinted in the dim light that was cast by the few candles lighting the corridor. With his body still pinning hers against the wall, he clapped the handcuffs over her hands, securing them behind her back. Alison struggled against the pressure of his body and screamed, 'Oliver, I don't know where the hell you think you're going with this, but its not funny…please let me go, Ollie, please?' If she had thought that her pleading would get through to him, she was wrong. He smirked at her, and replied, 'Oh, but it is funny…funny to see you plead, to see you beg.' Alison was horrified at the mad glint in his eyes, and against her will, the tears began to pour down her face. To her disgust, Oliver drew his face close to hers, and when she closed her eyes, she could feel his tongue flicking over her face, sopping up the tears. Slowly, his tongue moved down her face to her neck and then down to the opening of her robes. Oliver pulled his wand from his own robes and whispered a few words under his breath. All at once, Alison felt the lower half of her body going numb, and try as she might, she could not move her legs. Then, satisfied that Alison could not move either her arms or her legs, Oliver stepped away. Alison's sobs grew louder until Oliver slapped her hard across the face. Her head thudded into the wall, and she could feel a trickle of blood dripping down the side of her face. She could feel her consciousness ebbing away slowly but surely, and closed her eyes to try and compose herself. When she opened her eyes, she saw Oliver looking at her, a mad gleam in his eyes. By now, Alison had sunk down to the floor, her legs stretched out rigidly in front of her.  Oliver bent down and pulled her back up into a standing position, leaning her against the wall, like some sort of macabre doll. Alison began to scream as she felt his fingers moving around to the hook at the back of her robes. He ignored her, and her screams reached fever pitch as she felt her robes fall to the ground, and a gust of wind assailed her bare skin. Oliver smirked at her as he stepped away to admire his handiwork. He pulled off his own robe with ease revealing that he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers underneath. His erection was evident and his intentions, even more so. Alison sucked in her breath, as he moved closer to her, and closed her eyes, praying that this was all just a horrible dream that she would awake from. But no, when she opened her eyes, he was still there. Only now, he had a piece of masking tape in his hands, which he proceeded to fasten over Alison's mouth, muffling the sounds of her screams. He ran his fingers along the line of her black panties and then, with one liquid motion, pulled them off. After he had disposed of his own boxers in a similar way, he lowered his head to Alison's stomach, and proceeded to flick his tongue in and out of her navel. Alison struggled as hard as she could, but the charms and handcuffs held tight, and there was truly nothing Alison could do. In her attempt to escape, Alison crushed to the ground, but this time Oliver did not pull her back to a standing position. After all, this position was a lot more suitable for his purposes. The fall dazed Alison and her vision blurred, partly with choked tears and partly from a minor concussion. Through the daze, she could feel Oliver climbing on top of her and as he thrust into her, Alison's body arched in a final protest and then, it gave way. Oliver's thrusts became more and more intense and Alison's struggles became feebler, as her battered body finally accepted what was happening to her. Through the mire of shock, the torture seemed to last longer than eternity, but the entire ordeal, from start to finish, was no longer than one hour. Exactly one hour after Alison had literally run into Oliver, he rolled off her, his breath coming in gasps, his naked body covered in sweat and a twisted smirk on his face. Turning away so that Alison couldn't see his face, he pulled on his robes and then walked off down the corridor, leaving Alison lying naked in the corridor. As an afterthought, he tossed her robes onto her bruised body, and undid the Paralysis charm. He knew that Alison was too weak to come after him. The last thing that Alison remembered before slipping into a painful sleep was a flash of golden blonde hair, and a smooth voice saying, 'she's definitely not going to play in the match tomorrow.'

*****

Oliver clambered off his broom at the end of the try out and was making his way towards the locker room to shower and change when Jason Carlson caught up with him. Oliver was physically exhausted, a fact emphasized by the slight droop of his broad shoulders. He had been made to train with the Puddlemere United Team for two grueling hours. When Oliver had been about ready to drop, Jason had split the players up into groups for a full scrimmage. Now that the whole thing was over, Oliver didn't want to think about it any longer. After all, he had the next day's Quidditch Cup final to concentrate on. When Jason caught up to him, he seemed to be in a good mood. Oliver's hopes were raised at the sight of Jason's smiling face. Without letting Oliver say anything, Jason told him that he had been brilliant and that, barring the appearance of a giant, Oliver's appointment to the team was a mere matter of time. Oliver's spirits were lifted at this proclamation and try as he might, he couldn't keep from grinning for all he was worth. 

A half hour later, Oliver had showered and changed into a pair of jeans. He was bidding the players on the team farewell, when Jason asked if he wanted to join the team for a drink. Regretfully, Oliver shook his head and explained that he had a very important match the next day. He was about to tell Jason that he had to meet Alison as well, when he restrained himself. Jason, however, noticed the hesitation, and with a wink, he said, 'Can't bare to be without her for even a couple of hours, can you?'

Oliver blushed at the realization that his feelings for Alison were so obvious. He glanced at his watch and saw, to his relief, that it had just gone eleven pm. Jason pulled out a scrap of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Oliver. Curiously, Oliver read the note and could barely contain his laughter. The note read:

_To Whom It May Concern,_

_Please excuse Mr. Oliver Wood for returning to school at this late hour of 11:15 pm, as he was trying out for the Puddlemere United Quidditch Team._

_Yours truly,_

_Jason Carlson._

Oliver finally gave in to the laughter, and through his chuckles, he spluttered, 'Jesus, Jason, I don't need a late note.'

Jason, with a raised eyebrow, replied, 'well, I suppose you're good at getting into and out of school unnoticed…I would be too, with a girlfriend who looks like yours does. but just keep it, just in case.'

Oliver decided to ignore the 'girlfriend' comment. After all, it was true. Alison WAS his girlfriend, and he was proud of the fact. Instead, he just took the note and placed it in his pocket. Then, picking up the portkey, in the form of a worn boot, that Jason indicated to, he bid a final goodbye to Jason. As he touched the portkey, he felt a jerk around his navel and, before he knew it, he was lying sprawled on the ground just outside the gates to Hogwarts. 


	6. Chapter 6

Getting up, he dusted off his robes, and then strode through the Hogwarts gates. He looked at his watch and saw that it was indeed 11:15. For a few moments, he contemplated going back to the Common Room and surprising Alison, but instead, he decided to walk down to the Quidditch Pitch first and check if Sirius was there. As he walked towards what he considered his second home, he marveled at the remarkable relationship that he had managed to cultivate with Sirius. At first, he hadn't though it would be possible for him to get along with someone like Sirius, but as time wore on, he realized that what the media had conveniently forgotten to mention was what a good person Sirius Black actually was. Not that they could be blamed entirely. No, that blame could only belong to Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail. Oliver had been shocked when the story of Wormtail's betrayal had been revealed to him. He could not imagine betraying Alison, not even in his wildest dreams. When he neared the Quidditch pitch, he veered off the path, into a clump of bushes that lay a good twenty metres off to the left. Sure enough, in the clump of bushed, Oliver found Sirius and Harry talking softly about something. On seeing Oliver, they jumped up and began to fire questions at him concerning how his try out had gone. Grinning widely, Oliver told them that Jason Carlson had seemed quite happy when he bid him farewell. Before long, the three of them were completely immersed in a conversation that went into the tiniest nuances of the most popular wizard sport and as Oliver described it, 'the best sport in the world!'

An hour later, Oliver casually glanced down at his watch and to his disquiet, saw that it was now a quarter past midnight. Alison should have been there fifteen minutes earlier. Oliver didn't know why, but when he realized that Alison was late, a chilling tingle ran down the length of his spine and he knew, in his bones that something was very wrong. Both Harry and Sirius noticed that Oliver had gone awfully pale, and when Oliver explained the cause of his worry, a look of anxiety appeared on Sirius's face. After a moment of awkward hesitation, Harry jumped up from where he was sitting on the ground and turning to Sirius said, 'Marauder's Map.'

Sirius looked at Harry with a look of disbelief on his face and he groped for words. Finally, he gave up, and gestured for Harry to lead the way into the castle. On the way there, Sirius explained to a very perplexed Oliver what the Marauder's Map was. Oliver's eyes widened as he learnt of this incredible map, and he thanked the lord that the Weasley twins had never got their hands on it. Little did he know…

Oliver watched in amazement as Harry tapped his wand on a piece of faded yellow parchment and tiny spidery green lines bloomed over the paper. Even more fascinating were the tiny little dots moving over the paper, with minute handwriting beneath them. Quickly, Oliver and Harry tried to locate Alison on the piece of parchment, and Sirius, being unable to help in his canine form, had to be content with just watching them. Suddenly, Oliver saw her…and he saw who was with her. His heart began to pound as he turned on heel and rushed out of the Gryffindor Common Room. He ran like he had never run before and tried to keep his mind from drifting to the most painful ways to hurt Flint. He knew the corridor that Alison had taken; it was an out of the way passageway that led almost directly from the Potions classroom to the Gryffindor Common Room. As he ran, he could hear Harry and Sirius behind him, calling to him to slow down. But Oliver only ran faster, his legs fuelled by the growing hatred within him. When he rounded the last corner, he let out a cry of anguish. He was too late. 

He fell to his knees before Alison's bruised, naked body, and gently, tenderly, he ran his finger along the length of her cheekbone. Softly, he brushed his lips against Alison's, but still, she did not stir. Her face was pale and her normally sleek hair was matted with caked blood. Wrapping her torn robes around her body as best he could, he lifted her up off the ground, and tried to quell his growing panic at the stillness of her cold body. It was as he was lifting her up that Harry and Sirius appeared. Harry's face went white at the sight of Alison's lifeless body. He stopped in his tracks as though frozen. Sirius growled and in an instant, changed back to his human form. He leaped forward at Oliver and when he saw Alison's scarred body, he could not and didn't attempt to stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. It was this sad procession that made its way towards the hospital wing. All three faces were as gaunt as ghosts and Oliver could feel the hate swelling up inside him, threatening to burst. *Later,* he thought, *I'll deal with Flint later.*

Madam Pomfrey was so shocked when she saw Alison that she didn't question the presence of a dog in the midst of the procession. She directed Oliver to lay Alison down on a bed in the far corner of the room. Drawing the curtains around the bed where Alison lay, she conjured up a bowl of hot water and gently, washed away the blood from Alison's cuts. Had Oliver seen the bruises on the lower parts of Alison's body where the assault had taken place, he would not have been able to control his rage. Madam Pomfrey had been around for eons, but never had she seen a rape as brutal as this, if the evidence was anything to go on. However, Madam Pomfrey feared that the worst damages were internal. When she had done her best to wash away the blood, she covered Alison with two thick blankets and then left her to sleep. For sleeping she was…Madame Pomfrey knew enough to tell the difference between a deep slumber and the stillness of death.

Oliver knew not how long he sat there, his head in his hands, praying with all his heart for Alison to come around. He drifted in and out of what seemed to him like a surrealistic nightmare, his waking hours interspersed with gruesome images of what Flint might have done to Alison, if the bruises on her body were anything to go by. Suddenly, Alison stirred and instantly, Oliver was on his knees beside her, pleading with her to open her eyes. He had all but given u, when her eyelids fluttered open and she blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the harsh light that was streaming from the windows into the hospital wing. When she saw Oliver leaning in to kiss her, she opened her mouth and yelped in pain, while at the same time propelling herself backwards. Startled, Oliver drew back, and stared at Alison in shock. Alison's breathing was coming in ragged gasps, as she screamed bloody murder. Sirius, who until now, had been reclining on the floor in his canine form, sprang up, and jumped onto the bed with Alison. Flinging her arms around her father, Alison buried her face in his fur and wept piteously. Through her sobs, Oliver could make out the words, 'it was him, daddy. I called for you over and over, daddy, and you never came…when he was hurting me, you never came. Kill him, daddy…it was Oliver, KILL HIM DADDY!!!' The last three words were shrieked in a bloodcurdling scream that made Oliver's blood run cold. Sirius advanced on Oliver, his heckles raised and his teeth bared, as Alison collapsed back onto the pillow, the tears streaming down the sides of her face. Harry, who had until that moment, been sitting in a corner, his ears ringing with the allegations being tossed at Oliver, jumped up and stood firmly in front of Oliver as if to say, 'If you want him, you're going to have to go through him.' Sirius hesitated slightly when he saw Harry's determined stance, and then, slowly, he backed way, his heckles still raised and his teeth still glinting ferociously in the sunlight. 

At that moment, Madame Pomfrey came rushing up to them. When she saw Alison with her head buried in her knees, her shoulders racking with sobs, she caught hold of the growling, albeit incredibly surprised dog by the scruff of its neck and then dragged it out of the Hospital Wing. When she came back, she did the same with both Oliver and Harry despite their pleas to stay with the 'patient'. When she slammed the door to the hospital wing shut in their faces, both of them knew that there was no point trying to go back to in. They turned to see Sirius, or rather Padfoot sitting beside them, his canine head hung in despair. Then, suddenly, as though coming out of a trance, he noticed Oliver standing tantalizingly close to him. Immediately, a deep snarl began to sound from deep within his throat. Oliver looked at him and said, 'I swear, Sirius, I didn't do it. I swear I didn't. I was with Jason Carlson and then…and then, I took a portkey back here. The moment I got here, I joined you and Harry outside the Quidditch Pitch.  The dog looked up at him, almost quizzically, and then as though reaching some sort of a resolution, led the way to an oak paneled door. Oliver's eyes widened as he read the brass nameplate on the door: Professor Lupin. 

Before Oliver's eyes, the shaggy dog returned to his human state wand without glancing at either Harry or Oliver, knocked softly but firmly on the door. Seconds later, a very haggard Professor Lupin opened the door, his hair standing on end. But when he saw Sirius standing there in the flesh, accompanied by the stars of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the day before the deciding match against Slytherin, all the sleep was vanished in the twinkling of an eye. Without waiting for Lupin to get over his shock, Sirius strode into his room. Harry was the last to enter and closed and locked the door securely behind him. He turned back to see Sirius sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. Lupin sat down beside him and softly asked what the matter was. As Sirius told him of how they had found Alison and of Madame Pomfrey's confirmation that Sirius's worst nightmare had been realized and that Alison had indeed been raped…as Sirius told one of his closest friends this, his voice grew raspier, until he could barely be understood between the sobs. Lupin's face paled in horror as Sirius described the wounds on Alison's arms and legs. When Sirius was finally finished, Lupin asked, 'Padfoot, I know this is hard for you, but you have to pull yourself together…for your daughter's sake.' Then, after an awkward pause where the convict's sobs were the only sounds breaking the silence, Lupin continued, 'Do you know who it was?' 

Taking a deep breath, Sirius looked straight at Oliver and said, 'Alison said it was him.' At these words, Oliver felt the wind being knocked out of him. All his hope that Sirius would think about how impossible it would have been for him to commit such a crime faded into the distance. But Sirius's next words were completely unexpected. 

In a soft voice, Sirius continued, 'But I don't think it was him. It couldn't be. Oliver was right there with us, from a quarter past eleven to the moment when we found her.'

At this point, Lupin broke in and said, 'what about before that…can you vouch for where he was before that?' Sirius's face darkened as he contemplated this new theory. Feeling that he ought to say something in his own defense, Oliver stepped forward and said, 'I was in Puddlemere, sir, with Jason Carlson, trying out for the keeper's position on their Quidditch team. I was there till 11:15, and then, I took a portkey back…I promise you, Sirius, I would never, ever, hurt your daughter. I love her, and I would never hurt her.'

Lupin's eyes narrowed, and he questioned, 'well, do you have any proof that you were, indeed, in Puddlemere till a quarter past eleven?'

Oliver was about to shake his head in despair, when he remembered the note that Jason Carlson had written for him. He fished it out of his pocket and held it out. Sirius and Lupin read the note and then, the professor walked over to the fireplace. He pulled out some sparkling blue powder from a small leather pouch and tossed it into the flames. Simultaneously, the flames turned blue, and a headless voice proclaimed, 'This is the Interfloo network, Mr. Lupin. How may we be of service today.' 

Briskly, Lupin replied, 'Get me Jason Carlson, in Puddlemere.'

The bodiless voice hesitated slightly, before saying, 'the Quidditch captain, sir?'

'Yes, the Quidditch captain!' snapped Lupin. 

The voice fell quiet, and Oliver began to wonder if the connection had been broken. Just as he was about to voice his doubts, a spinning orb formed in the midst of the dancing flames, and when it came to a halt, Oliver's mouth fell open. 

Jason Carlson's head seemed to be hovering in mid air, dangerously close to the hungry flames. Stepping in front of Sirius so as not to alarm Jason, Lupin asked, 'Mr. Carlson…'

Jason interrupted, 'Please…call me Jason'

'Very well. Jason, I must ask if Oliver Wood was with you until a quarter past eleven tonight.'

Cheerily, the head replied, 'Yup…he was, and a damn good Keeper he is too!'

Trying to prevent the relief that was washing over him from showing on his face, Lupin thanked the head and apologized for bothering him. The head disappeared in the same manner that it had appeared, and a very apologetic Lupin turned to Oliver. Slowly, he said, 'I apologize for jumping to the most obvious conclusion, Oliver…' but he was silenced when Sirius enveloped the rather startled Oliver in a bear hug. As though suddenly remembering something, Sirius pulled away and asked, 'Who was it Oliver? Whose name did you see on the map?' 

Oliver hesitated slightly and then replied, 'Flint…Marcus Flint.' 

Harry gasped audibly, but both Sirius and Remus chose to ignore him for the moment. Furrowing his eyebrows, Remus asked, 'Flint…isn't he the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team? Why on earth would he do something like this?'

Looking down at the ground, Oliver whispered, 'It's my fault that any of this happened. Flint's tried before…he's never succeeded…till now that is. I should never have gone for that try out in the first place…I should've known that he would try again. I promised to look after her, and I've failed…I've failed so miserably.' He collapsed onto the bed, his head throbbing with all the 'what ifs'. But he knew it was no good…he knew that what was done was done, and nothing could turn back time. 

Sirius sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand around his shoulders, and told him not to be so hard on himself. Lupin, however, was standing by the fire, staring into the dancing flames, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. Suddenly, he turned to the other three in the room and said, 'I think I've figured out why Alison thinks it was Oliver. But you have to show me where you found her, before I can be totally sure.'

Five minutes later, they were back in the corridor where they had first found Alison's battered body. Lupin's sharp eyes picked up something that the other three had not noticed in their grief. For there, in the darkest corner, lay the remains of a broken bottle. And upon further examination, Lupin found the minutest drop of the liquid that Oliver/Flint had consumed. Pulling out his wand, he fixed the bottle and transferred the liquid into it. With a grim expression on his face, he turned to his companions who had been watching him in amazement and said two words that sent shivers down all of their spines: 'Polyjuice Potion'.

*****

Alison buried her head in her knees as Madame Pomfrey led Sirius, Harry and Oliver out of the Hospital wing with firm determination. Her body ached and even though she was covered with two sets of fluffy down blankets, she felt naked. When Madame Pomfrey returned to give Alison something to help her sleep better, she found, to her pleasant surprise, that Alison was already fast asleep. 

When Alison awoke, the pain that had she had been so blissfully unaware of while she slept returned with a vengeance. She moaned softly, and tried to arrange herself into a more comfortable position, but try as she might, she could not. She tried to think about something pleasant, like flowers, or music, but her mind kept returning to the mad gleam in Oliver's eyes as he had thrust into her, time after time after time. His eyes had looked so unfamiliar, their brown depths seemed murky, almost, and she shuddered at this thought, almost like Flint's eyes. She struggled to think of Oliver as the villain, the cruel sadistic person who had handcuffed her, and hurt her in all the ways imaginable. She had heard somewhere that the best way to get over something was to obtain closure. Closure, in this case, meant reliving every second of that terrible hour, but she knew that she would have to do it sooner or later. Determined to be strong, Alison forced her mind to peruse the murky depths of that hour during which everything Alison had believed in had been shattered. Shattered like that bottle that Oliver had dropped to the ground before he had launched his assault on her. 

Now that Alison thought about it, she wondered what the contents of the bottle had been. The rational part of her brain was telling her that it was completely unimportant, but something inside her convinced her to try and remember what the liquid inside the bottle had looked like. It had been slime green, and it had appeared quite glutinous. The word glutinous rang in her ears, and it seemed to strike a bell…she just wasn't sure what her mind was associating it with. Then suddenly, like someone pulling the veil out from over her eyes, she realized what the liquid had been…it had been Polyjuice Potion. She gasped slightly, causing the Nurse to look at her in concern. But as Alison didn't seem to be in any huge amount of pain, she decided to leave her alone. 

Alison tried to arrange her thoughts…the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that the liquid had been Polyjuice Potion. And as she racked her brain for anything and everything else that struck her as being unusual during the brutal rape, the pieces of what had been a very confusing jigsaw puzzle fell slowly into place. She had noticed that Oliver's voice had sounded like he had a cold, when he spoke…his voice had been nasal, and slightly more high-pitched than usual. The Scottish accent had seemed strained at times, not least when he was cuffing her hands together. Then she remembered something that convinced Alison that it had indeed been someone other than Oliver. Oliver knew who she was…but in the corridor the previous night, he had called her Adams. Oliver knew that she was Alison Black, not Alison Adams as she pretended to the rest of the world. No one else knew that. The new revelations left Alison's head spinning and she squeezed her eyes shut. The thought of sleep seemed tantalizing, but she knew that she had to go on, that she had to achieve closure. 

She ran through the rest of the hour, and sure enough, she noticed several discrepancies that just didn't tally with what she knew about Oliver. She had reached the point where all the memories appeared to be hazy and unclear, but as she reached over to pick up the glass of water that lay by the side of her bed, something flashed in front of her eyes, shocking her with its clarity. She remembered seeing a flash of blonde hair around the corner and hearing a voice saying, 'she's definitely not going to play in the match tomorrow.' And as she remembered the words and put all the pieces together, the whole picture was revealed to her, making her skin crawl at the cold manipulation that had gone into the whole thing. She should have known that it had been him all along. She couldn't believe that she hadn't recognized the internal stench of Marcus Flint. 

Shaken by the awful truth, she buried her head in her pillow and wept. She wept for herself, and she wept for Oliver. She had accused him of a crime that he was completely incapable of committing. She was startled from her tears by the reappearance of her father, Harry and Professor Lupin. But Oliver was nowhere to be seen. Her father began to speak, but Alison interrupted him. Trying to keep her voice from breaking, she asked, 'where's Ollie, daddy?'

Startled by this sudden change in her attitude towards Oliver, Sirius stammered, 'we-well…he's outside, we thought it might be better if we explained what actually happened before he came in to see you…' 

Alison cut in, demanding that Oliver be let in. unsure of what to expect and wondering if the events of the past few hours had severely unhinged his daughter, Sirius beckoned for Oliver to enter. When he was standing by Alison's bedside, unable to look her in the eye, and instead staring down at his feet, Alison requested the other three to leave them alone for a few minutes. Oliver looked puzzled and slightly apprehensive. He hadn't imagined that Alison would want to spend any length of time alone with him, considering what she didn't know. 

When the other three had left, Alison moved over slightly, and then patted the bed beside her, gesturing for Oliver to sit down next to her. He did so and an awkward silence ensued. Finally, the silence was shattered by Alison taking Oliver's hand, and saying, 'I know it wasn't you, Oliver…I was thinking about it, and I know it wasn't you. it was someone else…with Polyjuice Potion.' Oliver stared at her, absolutely flabbergasted. He could not believe that Alison had managed to figure this out, all while lying in her bed. However, he let her continue. 'And Oliver, I think I know who it was…it was Flint. Just like last time, it was Flint. But he wasn't alone. Draco was with him…the two of them planned the whole thing. Flint got me in detention last night. What a shocking coincidence that the match against the Slytherins happens to be tomorrow.'

Oliver gaped at what Alison was implying…that Draco and Flint had set up the whole thing to prevent Alison and hopefully Oliver as well, from playing against them. The shock soon ebbed away to be replaced by the all too familiar feeling of rage. 

Alison obviously recognized what Oliver was feeling, because her grip on his hand tightened, and she whispered, 'Oliver, I am going to play today. I can play just as well as if none of this had ever happened. You have got to let Madame Pomfrey let me play. If I don't, Flint and Malfoy, they'll get exactly what they wanted.'


	7. Chapter 7

Oliver tried his best to comprehend what his girlfriend was asking. She was asking to play in a Quidditch match even though she had jus been assaulted in the worst possible way. Oliver felt love welling up within his chest, and he leaned over and pressed his lips against Alison's. She didn't resist, and instead wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Alison broke away for a breath, and Oliver caressed her face tenderly. In a concerned tone, he asked, 'Are you sure you want to play, Alison? You don't have to. I'm sure Alicia could play now…we'd think of something.'

Alison shook her head firmly and replied, 'Absolutely not…I'm going to play, and we're going to win. Flint and Draco are going to regret the day they were born.'

Two minutes later, Harry, Sirius (the dog) and Remus entered the hospital wing, slightly concerned as to what had happened between Alison and Oliver. When they saw Oliver sitting on the bed beside Alison, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist, they all breathed a collective sigh of relief. When Oliver noticed their presence, he removed his arm, and placed it awkwardly on his knees. Remus could barely keep from laughing at Oliver's obvious discomfort. Instead, he turned to Alison and said, 'Honey, now that we know who's responsible, its up to you what their fate will be. Just name it.'

Alison looked at him and then at her canine father, and replied, 'I want to play'

'WHAT??'

Harry looked astounded at this, and Remus looked appalled. Sirius just stared at his daughter, wondering what on earth had gotten into her. Ignoring their expressions, even though the look of gormless wonder on the dog's face was priceless, Alison continued, 'And I want you to know that Oliver had nothing to do with me changing my mind. This is my choice, and my choice alone. I would appreciate it if you would talk to Madame Pomfrey about letting me go. The match, after all, does start in three hours and I need to practice.' 

Remus looked down at the dog, who nodded his head slightly. Remus glanced beseechingly at Alison once again, silently asking her to reconsider her decision. When her expression remained determined, Remus sighed and walked over to where Madame Pomfrey was mixing together some herbs in a bowl. Her first reaction was shock, followed by absolute reluctance. Eventually, she must have given in, for Remus came striding back, a huge smile on his face. Sure enough, he said, 'Well, Alison, you're as stubborn as a mule…and I suppose it has paid off. Your wish has indeed been granted…' He was interrupted by a highly annoyed Madame Pomfrey, who shooed all four of Alison's companions out of the Hospital Wing. Oliver leaned over and kissed Alison lightly, before turning and walking out of the ward, just a few steps behind the other three. 

Two and a half hours later, Alison was gripping the handle of her broom in the Changing Rooms, as she waited patiently for Angelina and Katie to change into their robes. She had especially careful not to let anyone see the bruises on her body, for even though Madame Pomfrey had been able to stop them from throbbing incessantly, she had been unable to conceal them. Alison hoped that the other two girls wouldn't notice the vast amounts of concealer that she was wearing on her face, to hide the bruises there. When they were finally ready, they walked out into the small room that opened out onto the field. Oliver and the rest of the team were standing there, and when he saw her, Oliver walked over to Alison and draped his arm around her shoulders. Fred and George tried to hide their smirks as much as they possibly could. They were convinced that it had been the plan concocted by them and their girlfriends that had led to this current state of affairs. They winked at each other in a self-congratulatory manner before settling down on the bench to listen to Oliver's pre match speech. Oliver looked at his team and smiled. He could not believe how far they had come from their first practice together. Fred and George, though still pranksters, had matured as Beaters and were truly a fearsome pair when they were in the mood. Angelina and Katie were two of the best Chasers Hogwarts could boast of. Alison, and his smile widened, as he glanced over at her, was THE best Chaser Hogwarts had ever seen. And Harry…the boy was so much mature than his years. Oliver had come to like, and then respect Harry as his only possible successor as the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. 

Oliver loosened his grip on Alison's shoulders and taking the hint, she slipped out of his grasp and sat down on the bench next to Harry. Oliver took a deep breath and then said, 'I know that all of you are waiting for me to give you some sort of pep talk, but I'd rather take you back to the start of my fifth year, three years ago. That was the year I made captain and I remember wondering how on earth to control any of you. Especially a pair of red headed twins whose names I wont mention. But now, as I look at you, I realize that I've already achieved my dream, whatever happens out there on the field. Because I know that I've succeeded in making a team…the best damn team Hogwarts has ever seen! And I'm proud to be a part of this team. But you know what would make me prouder? To sit by the hearth, a few years down the line, and tell my kids how I was part of the best Quidditch team ever…the Gryffindor Team that won the Quidditch Cup in my Seventh Year.' With that Oliver sat down, and everyone else remained silent. Oliver had never been known to give such profound speeches. They generally consisted primarily of cusses and swear as he urged them to "pound the buggers into the ground". Breaking the silence, Fred wiped a mock tear from his eye, and whispered, 'That was lovely, Oliver. Would you do my eulogy for me?' Oliver flushed red and he punched the red head lightly in the arm…he had no intention of injuring any of his players. Just then, he heard Lee Jordan announcing the Slytherin team, a proclamation that was met by a huge number of catcalls and boos. Once the noise died down, Lee Jordan announced the Gryffindor team and the whistles and cheers that erupted were deafening. Oliver threw open the door of the changing room and watched as his players jogged out onto the field amid thunderous applause. He turned to his girlfriend and kissed her soundly before following her out onto the field. His breath caught in his chest when he saw that three quarters of the crowd was dressed in red. As the adrenalin surged through him, he closed his eyes in a silent prayer. He had to win this one, for Alison…he had to. 

Madame Hooch beckoned to the two captains, but Flint seemed to be in a shocked stupor. His mouth had fallen open and his eyes were wide as he saw Alison jog out onto the field with Oliver next to her. When Madam Hooch called him over, he didn't hear her and instead continued to stare at Alison. He was interrupted from his transfixed gaze by his Chaser, and shaking his head in disbelief, he walked over to Oliver Wood. Draco was standing a few metres behind Flint and his expression was even more comical. His blonde hair seemed to be standing on end as he surveyed her face trying to find some trace of the pain that she must feel. But he could find none. He clenched his fists and wondered how on earth things hadn't worked out the way he had planned. Alison noticed him staring and instead of averting her eyes, stared brazenly back at him, as though daring him to try and hurt her again. Draco felt a shiver run down his spine as he recognized the look of pure loathing in Alison's eyes. Her dark eyes flashed dangerously, and eventually, Draco looked away. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to focus on the task at hand…to beat Gryffindor and claim the Quidditch Cup. 

Oliver felt his face heat up with rage as Flint sauntered over to him, and held his hand out. Oliver gripped it as lightly as he possibly could…just to look at flint made his skin crawl. He was the worst sort of person. Oliver couldn't bear to imagine what this piece of scum had done to Alison. 

As soon as he could, Oliver let go of Flint's hand and turned back to his own team. He stood as close as he possibly could to Alison without actually giving in to the temptation of hugging her and instead, smiled reassuringly at her. Flint and Draco were holding a hushed discussion and Alison couldn't help but smirk at their evident discomfort. *Good*, she thought, *let him squirm…*

The whistle startled Alison from her thoughts and instantly, she pushed off from the ground. Almost immediately, Angelina caught the Quaffle and tossed it to her. Ignoring the pain that was gnawing at her, Alison caught it securely and sped towards the goalposts. She could see the Slytherin Beaters coming up to the left and right of her. When they were less than five metres to either side of her, she realized that the two Bludgers were over on the other side of the field. Her eyes widened as she saw both of them raise their clubs and swing for her head. In the nick of time, Alison dropped to the ground like a stone, and above her, she heard two simultaneous thuds as the two Slytherin beaters smashed each other on the head. Not pausing to gloat, she circled the Slytherin goals, the Quaffle tucked securely under her arm. By this time, Angelina and Katie were right behind her and together, they began to swerve this way and that, causing the keeper a huge amount of consternation. Alison passed the Quaffle to Angelina who then passed it to Katie. This continued for about thirty seconds until the keeper was about ready to weep with desperation. Suddenly, the keeper realized that Angelina had disappeared and that it was only Katie and Alison who were swerving in front of him. In horror, he turned and watched as Angelina tossed the bright red Quaffle through the center hoop. The Gryffindor section of the crowd screamed and cheered, and Alison nearly clapped her hands in glee. 

A half hour later, Alison was drenched in sweat and although, Gryffindor was well in the lead (70-30), she could feel the pain beginning to overcome her. She glanced up at Harry, who for the moment was scanning the pitch for any sight of the gilded snitch. Draco, she could see, was marking him so closely that their knees were practically touching. And then Alison saw it. The snitch…it was halfway down the pitch. She looked desperately at Harry but he hadn't seen it. She knew that she wasn't allowed to touch the snitch herself, but she couldn't not do anything. She was closest to Katie and catching her eye, she nodded her head surreptitiously at the snitch. Katie's eyes widened as she caught sight of the glimmer of gold. Alison could think of only one thing to do and that was to keep all or most of the Slytherins over on this side. She knew that Draco had been given clear instructions to mark Harry, come rain or sun. Katie, Alison and then, later Angelina began to toss the Quaffle back and forth, all the while dodging the Bludgers. Alison had to use all of her willpower to keep her eyes from wandering back to snitch. Suddenly, Flint caught hold of the Quaffle as it was being tossed from Angelina to Katie. A big grin on his face, he sped down the field towards Oliver, his eyes narrowed in concentration. All thoughts of the snitch were driven from Alison's mind as she forced her broom forward until she was right alongside Flint and Katie was on the other side. Alison yelled, 'Now!' and the two Chasers began to circle Flint. They droned around him like a pair of annoying flies and if that weren't bad enough, Angelina soon joined in too, from beneath Flint. This ploy had taken them hours to perfect in practice, but it was well worth the effort. Flint was forced to swerve away from the goalposts, muttering under his breath. Just then, Alison heard the crowd fall silent and she turned to see Harry and Draco hurtling towards the ground, so fast that it seemed that they were both just falling. Harry was a few inches behind the Slytherin keeper, but he was catching up. The distance between the two seekers and the snitch shortened from twenty metres to ten, then five, then three. Alison said a silent prayer as Harry pulled in front of Draco, and then, as Harry closed his fingers around the snitch, just a fraction of a second before Draco closed his fingers on thin air, the whole crowd exploded, some with dismay but most with jubilation. Gryffindor had won…they had won the Quidditch Cup and they had won the House Cup. 

The next fifteen minutes flew by in a swirl of tears, cheers and hugs. Oliver found himself sobbing as he hugged Alison for all he was worth. He seemed oblivious to the rest of the people around him, thumping him on the back. Harry seemed to be buried under a crowd of Gryffindors, and well wishers. As Oliver held aloft the glittering trophy, the one that his hands had been itching to touch for the past three years, and as the crowd roared its approval, Oliver felt such happiness that he had never felt in his entire life. his exhilaration was enhanced by the sight of the Slytherin team slinking off the pitch, forgotten and rejected, their clothes stained with mud, their faces stained with tears. Alison grinned happily as she watched Oliver hold aloft the trophy. She clapped so hard that her fingers were numb. She had been hugged so hard that she could no longer feel her stomach. But she was happy. As Oliver beckoned for the team to join him, and as he handed her the trophy, she felt even happier. But her happiness peaked when Oliver let go of the trophy, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed her. 

*****

The exhilaration caused by Gryffindor's victory lasted about a week for most people, but Oliver seemed to walking with his head in the clouds for a lot longer. Alison's wounds healed fast and Madame Pomfrey released her into Oliver's custody. Alison was just changing back into her robes before she left the Hospital Wing when Madame Pomfrey asked Oliver if she could talk to him in private. Closing the door to her office firmly, she gestured for Oliver to have a seat. Shifting a pile of papers from what seemed like an old, rather rotted stool, Oliver sat down gingerly. Madame Pomfrey, however, paced in front of him. She stopped, turned to him and said, 'Oliver, not to put a damper on your spirits, but it seems to me that in your excitement about the victory, you have forgotten that you girlfriend was raped.' Oliver protested indignantly but was shushed by the Nurse. She continued, 'I know that it is not intentional, and I am not saying that it is your fault. In fact, truth be told, your girlfriend seems to have all but forgotten as well. But what you have to realize is that her…condition is not too stable. It's nothing serious and nothing that time cant cure. What I am trying to say, Oliver, is that both you and Alison seem to have forgotten the risk of Alison being pregnant.'

Oliver felt the blood drain from his cheeks, and for a second, as his head spun, he thought he was going to pass out. Seeing the look on his face, Madame Pomfrey hurriedly continued, 'I don't know for sure yet, we'll just have to wait. I would do some tests if I weren't so sure that Alison would be most worried by them. And the last thing she needs to do at this point is worry…'

'What are you going to wait for??' demanded Oliver, indignantly. 

The slightest flush crept into the Nurse's cheeks as she wondered how to explain to Oliver how she would know whether Alison was indeed pregnant. Seeing that Oliver was not backing down, she got a grip of herself and replied, as calmly as she could, 'I'm waiting for her…period…if it doesn't start soon, I'm going to have to start doing the tests.'

Now it was Oliver's turn to color and he looked down at the ground awkwardly. Hurriedly, the nurse moved on. She cleared her throat, and said, 'The reason I called you here is not because I wanted to tell you all of this, but because I have a favour to ask of you.' 

Oliver looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. He couldn't imagine what Madame Pomfrey could possibly want to ask of him. Madame Pomfrey looked very uncomfortable as she opened her mouth again. 'Oliver, if I do have to do the tests, I need to make sure that Alison is…untainted, except by whoever assaulted her.' seeing the look of incomprehension on Oliver's face, she decided that there was nothing she could do but tell him straight out. 'Oliver…what I'm saying is…you can't have sex with Alison, not until after I've done the tests if I need to.'

Oliver stood up indignantly and practically yelled, 'I would never pressure her to go further than she wanted to…NEVER!'

Madame Pomfrey smiled and said, 'I know you wouldn't, that's a given. What I'm asking is for you to resist her, no matter how far she is willing to go. If she wants it, you say no…for her sake, you have to say no. Her hormones are in turmoil right now…and she might want to go further than she would in a normal state.'

Oliver sat back down in the chair with a thud. He could keep his hands to himself, but to resist Alison would take a huge effort. He looked at Madame Pomfrey and saw her look at him pleadingly. Slowly, he nodded. Madame Pomfrey smiled and then opened the door without a word. Oliver strode out, and placing his arm around Alison's waist, walked towards the door. 

Oliver and Alison climbed through the portrait hole and to their surprise, saw that it was empty. Alison looked at her watch and realized that it was dinnertime and that everyone else was probably in the Great Hall. She glanced over at Oliver, and saw him look around in confusion. His thick hair glowed in the dim light of the fireplace and Alison felt something stir inside her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his. Oliver could hear Madame Pomfrey's words in his head, but the feel of Alison's fingers running through his hair made him all but forget the warning. Before Oliver knew it, they were in the girls' dormitory, and Alison was sitting on the bed, beckoning for him to sit down next to her. She smiled and Oliver's stomach flipped. His conscience was telling him to stay as far from Alison as possible at that point, but his legs did not seem to be listening. When Oliver sat down next to her, Alison began to kiss him gently, and against his will, Oliver kissed her back. He felt her fingers run along the bare skin of his back, sending a tremor of pleasure coursing through him. He could feel himself being intoxicated by the smell of her hair, by her smile, by the graceful, almost feline way in which she pulled off his shirt and ran her slender fingers along the length of his chest inciting pleasure the likes of which Oliver had never even dreamed of. Her lips traveled along the length of his jawbone, and then trailed down his chest. Oliver's breath was coming in gasps, and he could feel himself losing control. He wrapped his arms around Alison's body, pressing her against his bare chest, and his deft fingers explored the material of Alison's robes in search of the hooks that would reveal Alison to him in all her beauty. At long last, his fingers touched metal, and he began to undo the hooks, one at a time. When the last one was undone, he slipped the robes off Alison's shoulders and they fell unheeded to the floor. Oliver's breath caught in his throat. Alison was more perfect than he could have ever imagined. Her stomach was flat and toned, and her breasts firm. Her legs were long and slender and as Oliver discovered, incredibly smooth. He ran his fingers along her bare calves, and a soft moan escaped Alison's lips. Madame Pomfrey's words were but a far cry, a distance echo in the farthest reaches of Oliver's mind. He took Alison in his arms, and began to kiss her, softly at first, and then as the desire built up inside him, they grew more passionate, more intense. Oliver was stroking the smooth skin of her back, admiring her lovely tan skin, when he saw a bruise just below the small of her back. The bruise was tiny and he most certainly wouldn't have noticed had he not been at such close quarters, but they brought back the Nurse's words into Oliver's mind, like a lion roaring in a peaceful glen. His male instincts were telling him to ignore the Nurse's words, but his brain and his heart, no longer clouded with desire and lust were telling him to pull away. For what was possibly one of the first times in his life, Oliver listened to his brain.   
He took a deep breath, and then, he slid out of Alison's hands. Alison looked startled and murmured, 'what's the matter, Oliver? Did I do something wrong?'  
With his back turned to her, Oliver grimaced at the undisguised hurt in her voice. He picked up his shirt from the floor, and pulled it on. He then turned back to Alison and said, 'No, you did everything right. It's just…it's just too soon. I'm sorry.' He handed her robe and then, to stop himself from wondering what he had just missed out on, he turned to the window and looked out. When she had pulled on her robe, Alison came up behind him and asked, 'What's the matter? Why so grim?'

'I'm not…I'm contemplative.'

And then Alison did something that Oliver would never have expected her to do under these circumstances. She laughed. She threw back her head, tossed her hair and laughed the same tinkling laugh that Oliver had fallen in love with. She wrapped her hands around his waist, and together they gazed out of the window. 


	8. Chapter 8

After a few minutes, Alison whispered, 'Oliver? Can I make a wild guess as to why you pulled away earlier?'  
she could feel Oliver stiffen at these words and , she saw the look of discomfort flash across his face. Ignoring these signs, she ploughed on. ' I occurs to me that perhaps, just perhaps Mme Pomfrey said something to you. I couldn't quite figure out what it was that she told you in her office, until it struck me a second ago. Would I be right in assuming that she asked you not to have sex with me, so that she could check that I'm not pregnant?'  
Oliver stared at her in openmouthed wonder. It was a well-known fact that Alison was incredibly intelligent, but this time, she had somehow managed to pluck the right answer, as if out of thin air. Alison grinned at his shock and said, 'I thought that might be it…you have to remember Oliver, I've been through this before.' Oliver saw the momentary flash of pain as it flitted across her face before disappearing in the twinkling of an eyelid. And for what seemed like the millionth time, he berated himself for agreeing to meet Jason Carlson for the tryouts. He was brought back to the present by Alison's voice saying, 'anyways, you don't have to worry. I'm not pregnant.'   
Oliver raised his eyebrows at her and said, 'You mean…you've got your…'

'Yeah…'

'Oh, thank god!!! When Mme Pomfrey said that you might be pregnant with Flint's child, I was so devastated…I want you to have my child and only my child.'   
Oliver stopped abruptly, when he realized what he had just said. He looked over at Alison and said, 'I didn't mean right now, of course, I meant later…eventually.' Alison smiled and kissed him gently. As she broke away, she whispered, 'I know what you mean…and I feel exactly the same way.'  
 

*****

The dancing flames cast flickering shadows on the walls of the Great Hall. The dining tables had disappeared save one that rested against the far wall. A stage had been set up at the front, with the banners of the four houses acting as a backdrop. The hall was alive with the hushed whispers of parents, as they recalled their years at Hogwarts. Outside, in the Entrance Hall, stood the graduating class of Hogwarts. Dressed in blood red robes, Alison and Oliver stood as far away from the entrance to the Great Hall as possible. They were surrounded by their friends, most from their own house, some from Hufflepuff and some from Ravenclaw.   
Alison looked around at her friends, and smiled when she saw the looks of apprehension on all of their faces. She turned to Oliver, and was most amused when she saw that he was wringing his hands without realizing what he was doing. Gently, she pulled his hands apart, and held them with hers. The gentle feel of his fingers against the skin on her palms made her heart weep with love. She stood on tiptoes, and placing her arms around his neck, brushed her lips against his. A smile appeared on his face, and he placed his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and smell the pine fresh scent of his aftershave.   
Oliver was drawing his lips close to hers, when they heard Professor McGonagall clear her throat loudly. They sprang apart, and Oliver could feel his face burning under McGonagall's gaze. Satisfied that nothing inappropriate was going to happen in the Entrance Hall, she strode to the entrance of the Great Hall. Silently, she opened the door, and glanced in. Through the door, the nervous seventh years could hear sntches of Professor Dumbledore's speech. "…transition from irresponsible children to responsible adults …wish them the very best of luck…welcome the graduating class of 1999!!"

This last phrase was the students' cue to enter the Great Hall. Alison followed Oliver in, and was momentarily stunned by the vast number of parents and friends who were present. Seeing Oliver's face light up, she glanced in the direction of his gaze, and saw his parents sitting there with, wide beams on their faces. Alison felt a pang of regret within her soul; regret that her father could not be here. He had been most depressed the previous night when he explained to her why he couldn't make it. He was, after all, one of the most wanted criminals in the wizarding world.   
All the seventh years lined up beside the magnificent stage that had been erected. The banners of the four houses were draped across the back of the stage making for a vividly coloured backdrop. Professor McGonagall walked onto the stage and with her wand pointed at her throat like a microphone, she began to call out the names of all the graduates. It struck Alison as ironic that students both began and ended their stays at Hogwarts with the same teacher calling out their names. Oliver's name was called just before hers and almost nonchalantly, he strolled onto the stage to join the rest of the graduating class and accept his diploma. Alison was the last student to be called up, and As she walked onto the stage, Professor McGonagall turned to her, handed her her diploma and then announced again, 'Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the graduating class of 1999!!!' The audience burst into instantaneous applause, and through the glare of the spotlights that were shining in her eyes, she thought she caught sight of Oliver's mother wiping the tears away from her eyes. In reflection, Alison had to admit that his mother was probably astonished by the turnaround in Oliver's grades. He had bagged more NEWTS than anyone else in the school, except for Alison. And Alison smiled inwardly as she remembered all the late night tutoring sessions; times when she wanted nothing more to give in to Oliver's seductive gestures and curl up in his arms. But it had paid off in the end and even Oliver grudgingly admitted to that.   
An hour later, Oliver was standing in front of the castle gates for the last time, his suitcase in one hand, and his other arm placed securely around Alison's waist. Oliver had just told his parents of his plans to move to Puddlemere straight away and join the team. But when he told them that Alison and he were going to be living together, they took it a lot more calmly than Alison had expected. Oliver's mother smiled slightly when Oliver told her of their decision in a very trepid voice. Kindly, she placed her arm around Alison and said, 'Any girl who could bring about such a sudden change in my Ollie can do no wrong in my eyes.' His father had simply grunted his approval and thumped Oliver heartily on the back. Oliver just stared at his parents in incredulous disbelief and it was all Alison could do from laughing out aloud. And then, as quickly as they had arrived, they left and Oliver and Alison made their way to where they knew the portkey to Puddlemere was going to be. 

*****  
  


An hour later, they walked into their house, their first house together. It wasn't particularly extravagant. It was a two bedroom one story villa, with a garden in front and a white picket fence. The inside was sparsely decorated, with identical beds in the two bedrooms, and a single bathroom. There was a small kitchen with an even smaller gas stove. Oliver was most excited. He had never seen this particular Muggle appliance before. After much pleading on his part, Alison finally promised to show him how to work it after they had unpacked their stuff. One of the bedrooms was slightly larger than the other, and so it was designated the "master bedroom". In the corner, there were two cupboards and a dressing table. Alison tossed open her suitcase and began to unpack…her mother had always told her that unpacking came before anything else. She could feel Oliver watching her as she systematically hung up her clothes. But she didn't hear him come up behind her until he placed his arms around her waist, and pulled her towards him. Alison giggled softly and tried to pull away, but Oliver's strong arms were unrelenting. When his lips touched her neck, she felt a shiver of anticipation run through her. She could feel his arms slipping under her sweater, softly caressing her bare skin. Softly, she whispered, 'didn't you want me to teach you how to light that gas stove?'  
In reply, Oliver only kissed her harder, his desire becoming evident. Alison decided to throw caution to the winds; after all, it was their first night together. She turned to face him, and saw the passion burning in his chocolate brown eyes. Gently, she pressed her lips against his, and with her fingers, began to unbuckle his belt. Oliver smoothly maneuvered her over to the bed, and in sync with each other, they sank into the soft down mattress. Effortlessly, Oliver undid the top button of Alison's sweater before kissing the newly exposed flesh. Alison gasped as his tongue traced a line along the rim of her brassiere. Oliver was now on top of her, his hips pressed against hers, his lips caressing hers. Alison slid her arms under Oliver's shirt, and ran her fingers along his strong back, marveling at his muscles as they flexed underneath her hands. 

The next morning, Alison's eyes fluttered open as the sunlight streamed in through the open window. She blinked her eyes, and shivered as a cold gust assailed her bare skin. Almost instinctively, Oliver's arms tightened around her. Alison snuggled against his strong chest, and thought about the previous night. Oliver had been so completely in tune with her thoughts, it was almost as though he could read her mind. She squinted around the bedroom; their bedroom and noticed with chagrin that all her clothes were lying on the floor amid Oliver's. She thought about her life and decided that there was nothing that could possibly ruin it. She was as happy as she had ever been in her life. She was lying in the arms of the man whom she loved with all her heart and soul and they had their entire lives ahead of them. She closed her eyes and went back to sleep.   
An hour or so later, she was woken by Oliver's hands running along her thighs, and she turned to look at him. His head was propped up on his arm, and his dark brown hair was tousled. A lazy smile broke on his face when he saw that her eyes were open. His eyes traveled over her body, and Alison felt a blush creeping up her necks when she realized what Oliver was doing. She sntched the sheet away from him, and covered herself up. Oliver couldn't help but laugh at this gesture, especially after the previous night. He moved closer to Alison, and kissing her on the nose, whispered, "good morning…did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby"

*****


	9. Chapter 9

Oliver ran his fingers through his hair. Jason was pacing up and down in 
    
    front of the team, mapping out the new strategies and even though Oliver was 
    
    trying his level best to concentrate on what his captain was saying, he 
    
    couldn't seem to rub the sleep from his eyes. Perhaps it had to do with the 
    
    fact that he hadn't slept much the previous night. Indeed the thought of 
    
    leaving Alison all alone that morning had been heart wrenching. But Oliver 
    
    was determined to make a good impression and do well. He was finally where 
    
    he had always wanted to be. Quidditch was his life…well, Quidditch and 
    
    Alison.
    
    For the next few hours, Jason Carlson worked his team harder than Oliver 
    
    though was possible. He chuckled to himself as he imagined what Fred and 
    
    George's face would look like were he to even suggest as rigorous a training 
    
    program. As they were finishing up, Jason walked over to Oliver and after 
    
    commending him on his excellent work that day, suggested that he join the 
    
    team in the local pub. Secretly he had been hoping that Alison might want to 
    
    do something else that night. Nevertheless, he promised Jason that he'd try 
    
    his best to be there. At this, his captain gave him a knowing look, and 
    
    said, 'I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't turn up after all!' Oliver 
    
    could feel the blush creeping up his neck and for the hundredth time, cursed 
    
    his fair skin.
    
    When he got home from practice, his shirt was drenched in sweat. Alison was 
    
    in the kitchen, and as Oliver entered through the door, enticing aromas 
    
    shrouded him in their welcoming embrace. He closed the door as softly as he 
    
    possibly could and made his way to the kitchen. To his delight, Alison was 
    
    standing in front of the gas cooker, frying something in a saucepan. He slid 
    
    behind her, and without warning, wrapped his arms around her. She shrieked 
    
    in surprise and nearly knocked over the hot saucepan. She was about to turn 
    
    on Oliver and tell him never to do that again, when he kissed her softly on 
    
    the neck. As his lips brushed against her neck, she felt her insides melt 
    
    and she turned to him, a big smile playing on her lips. Oliver pecked her on 
    
    the neck and murmured, 'Jason was wondering if we would like to join the 
    
    rest of the team at the pub today.' He prayed that Alison would decline but 
    
    grinning, she replied, 'That sounds like fun! What time do we have to meet 
    
    them there?'
    
    Oliver gave her his best puppy dog smile and whispered, 'well…I was hoping 
    
    we could do something else.' He pulled her closer to him and ran his fingers 
    
    through her hair. Chuckling softly, she pulled away and replied, 'we'll have 
    
    plenty of time for THAT when we get back.' Feeling slightly better, Oliver 
    
    pulled off his sweaty shirt and tossed it into the washing pile, before 
    
    strolling into the bathroom for a shower.
    
    *****
    
    An hour later, Oliver and Alison walked into 'The Silver Unicorn' pub just a 
    
    couple of blocks away from their cottage. Immediately loud music assaulted 
    
    their ears, and the smell of freshly brewed butterbeer assailed their 
    
    nostrils. Slightly disorientated, Oliver looked around for Jason and the 
    
    rest of the team. He finally spotted them at the other side of the pub, 
    
    seated at a large table that Oliver suspected was reserved for them due to 
    
    all the Puddlemere United paraphernalia that was draped along the wall 
    
    behind it.
    
    When he saw them, Jason stood up and shook Oliver's hand heartily before 
    
    pecking Alison on the cheek. He then proceeded to introduce her to all the 
    
    members of the team.
    
    Chris Marshall and Stephen Cairns were the other two chasers on the team, 
    
    apart from Jason himself. They were both tall men, lean and fit. But that 
    
    was where the similarities ended. Chris had curly blonde hair, pale skin and 
    
    bright blue eyes. Stephen, on the other hand, had raven black locks, was 
    
    well-tanned and smoky gray eyes. Damien McGrath and Adam Pollock were the 
    
    two beaters, and they were both stocky and well built with broad shoulders 
    
    and incredibly muscular arms. Damien's nose was crooked probably from having 
    
    been hit by a stray bludger. Apart from that, he was quite attractive with 
    
    dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and clean-cut features. Adam was not 
    
    particularly attractive, with his mousy brown hair falling in his eyes and a 
    
    generous spattering of freckles all over his pale face, but Alison was to 
    
    learn that what Adam lacked in appearance, he more than made up for in 
    
    personality. The last member of the team, apart from Oliver was the seeker, 
    
    Brett Lee. Built like a seeker, he was possibly the most attractive member 
    
    of the team…until Oliver had arrived. With his short brown hair and 
    
    smoldering eyes, he seemed like the kind of guy that fathers had nightmares 
    
    about.
    
    They all nodded in acknowledgement as Jason introduced Alison to them…all 
    
    except for Adam, the beater who jumped out of his seat and began to pump her 
    
    hand up and down. In a conspiratorial voice, just loud enough for the rest 
    
    of the team to hear, he said, 'So you're the reason Oliver couldn't looked 
    
    so unhappy to be at practice today!' Oliver blushed deeply but Alison just 
    
    laughed. The two pulled up chairs and sat down with the rest of the team.
    
    The weeks passed in a whirlwind of happiness and contentment. Her love for 
    
    him grew with every second that they spent together. Oliver's life had never 
    
    been better.  Both professionally and romantically, his future had never 
    
    looked brighter. Alison loved Puddlemere and she got along well with 
    
    Oliver's teammates, who in turn thought Alison was the best thing since 
    
    sliced bread. Their girlfriends always complained about all the time they 
    
    spent playing Quidditch…Alison on the other hand turned up at the practices 
    
    every so often. Recently, on hearing from Oliver what a spectacular Chaser 
    
    Alison had been, Jason had allowed her to join in during practice, and 
    
    needless to say she had been an instant hit.
    
    One Tuesday morning, Alison awoke to find Oliver shivering violently. 
    
    Worried, she pressed her hand against her forehead. To her immense 
    
    consternation, his skin was practically aflame. Oliver opened his eyes 
    
    lethargically, and Alison could see that they were bloodshot. She jumped out 
    
    of bed and ran into the kitchen. She pulled out a large steel container and 
    
    poured some icy cold water into it. Once back in the bedroom, she dipped a 
    
    small piece of cloth into the cold water, squeezed it and then placed it on 
    
    his forehead. Oliver muttered incomprehensibly and Alison felt so helpless. 
    
    She couldn't call anyone because there were no telephones. She couldn't owl 
    
    anyone, as most people would be asleep at this hour. Once it seemed that 
    
    Oliver had dozed off, she got up very slowly and tiptoed to the door. She 
    
    pulled on Oliver's shoes and coat and then left the house. Once in the 
    
    street, she broke into a run. She didn't want to leave Oliver alone for too 
    
    long. She headed straight for the cottage next door…Brett's cottage.
    
    Nobody answered when she knocked. In despair, she pulled out her wand and 
    
    unlocked the door. She was sure Brett would understand. The house was 
    
    silent. She thought she heard faint snoring in the bedroom, so she made her 
    
    way there. She knocked on the wooden door, softly at first and then when she 
    
    got no response, she knocked harder. Finally, she pushed open the door and 
    
    peeked in. her eyes widened in horror when she saw a man lying in the bed, 
    
    partially covered by the blankets but looking for all the world as naked as 
    
    a new born baby. That, in itself, wasn't the problem though. Oliver, 
    
    himself, had confessed to sleeping in the nude when he was a teenager. the 
    
    problem was…the man wasn't Brett.
    
    Alison's mind whirled with shock at this discovery. She tried to convince 
    
    herself that perhaps Brett was in another room, that perhapsthis was his 
    
    brother or best friend or…
    
    But just when she was beginning to calm down, she heard the door of the 
    
    bathroom opening. Before she had time to react, Brett was standing in front 
    
    of her, a towel around his waist, a look of dismay on his normally handsome 
    
    face. Trying to act as though it were commonplace for her to find out that 
    
    her boyfriend's teammate was gay, she said, 'Oliver's sick…I need you to get 
    
    Jason and a doctor as soon as possible.'
    
    Brett made as if to stop her from leaving, and said, 'we need to talk about 
    
    this…'. Turning her back on him, Alison replied ' not now…I have to go back 
    
    to Oliver. Please go fetch Jason, and tell him to get a doctor. It's urgent. 
    
    Please, Brett.'
    
    When the doctor arrived, he quelled Alison's fears and told her that it was 
    
    only a very serious form of the flu that had been going around. The doctor 
    
    left after a few minutes and after ensuring that Alison was all right to 
    
    stay alone, Jason left.
    
    That night, Alison was sitting outside by the fence, when Brett approached 
    
    her. his hair was tousled and he had huge bags under his eyes. he didn't 
    
    look like he had slept too much after Alison had barged in on him and his 
    
    *friend*. Without a word, he sat down next to her. after a few seconds, the 
    
    silence grew unbearable, and he whispered, 'I'm not going to pretend to 
    
    you…because there seems to be no point. All I ask is that you hear me out…'
    
    Alison interrupted, 'you don't have to explain…you're a grown man…what and 
    
    who you do in your spare time is entirely your business.'
    
    'I just…I don't want anyone to know…the prejudice and the bigotry that I 
    
    would have to face would be incredible…not just from the media, but from my 
    
    teammates. And I honestly love Quidditch…'
    
    'I know you do…I've watched you play. And I wont tell a soul…'
    
    'Not even Oliver?'
    
    '…not even Oliver.'
    
    The vow of secrecy that Alison made hung in the air, and even though he said 
    
    nothing, Alison could tell that Brett was tremendously grateful. After a few 
    
    seconds, he said, 'do you hate me for it?'
    
    Alison glanced at him and replied, 'No…I respect you for being strongenough 
    
    to be different.'
    
    'Thank you…I love him, you know. It's not just a fling in the park. I have 
    
    loved him for the past three years.'
    
    'whats his name?'
    
    'Mark.'
    
    For the first time since he had sat down, Alison looked Brett in the eye and 
    
    said, 'He's very handsome!'
    
    Brett burst out laughing, mostly with relief at the thought that Alison was 
    
    being so supportive. Alison joined in, but beneath her laughter, she could 
    
    feel a rush of anger at people who judged other people by their sexuality, 
    
    and not their personality. *that's just as bad as racism, * she thought to 
    
    herself.
    
                   Over the next few weeks, Alison and Brett grew to become close friends and 
    
    Alison began to realize that Brett was one of the best friends that she had. 
    
    And even though she tried not to consciously think about it, she had to 
    
    admit that gay men made the best friends.
    
    *****


	10. Chapter 10

               One evening, she came back home from a stroll in the park, and found Oliver 
    
    sitting in the living room, looking incredibly tense. Slightly alarmed, she 
    
    sat down next to him and wrapped her arms around him. To her surprise, he 
    
    didn't hug her back. She pulled away from him and looked at him 
    
    questioningly. Oliver remained silent for a while and then, he said 
    
    'Alison…you do know that I love you more than anything else…don't you? Even 
    
    if I do come home late from practice, you don't mind, do you? Because if you 
    
    do…I wish you'd tell me…'
    
    'I don't mind…I know you're practicing really hard and I know you're happy 
    
    and that's all that matters. And I know you love me…how could anyone not 
    
    love me???' she added jokingly.
    
    When Oliver showed no signs of being amused, she whispered, 'what's the 
    
    matter…you're not telling me something…'
    
    'No, its you who isn't telling me something.'
    
    Alison recoiled at Oliver's sharp tone. He had never spoken to her like this 
    
    before. Her eyes filled with sudden tears and she blinked rapidly. Her lip 
    
    quivering, she pleaded, 'I don't know what you're talking about Ollie…'
    
    'You know exactly what I'm talking about.' He jumped off the couch and began 
    
    to pace back and forth in front of her, clenching his fists periodically. 
    
    'But because you're feigning ignorance, I'm goin to spell it out for you. 
    
    Brett! That's the problem! Why, in heaven's name are you spending so much 
    
    time with him. Whenever we talk, you bring him up…I just…I…Alison, please 
    
    tell me that you and Brett aren't…'
    
    'Oliver! I can't believe you would even think that! Brett is a friend…a good 
    
    friend, nothing more! I spend time with him because he's fun to be with…'
    
    'And I'm not???'
    
    'I'm living with YOU; I'm not living with Brett! What does that tell you 
    
    about how I feel??!! I love you, Oliver Wood, even though at times like 
    
    this, I want to slap you so hard. I thought you trusted me Oliver…I thought 
    
    you were better than this…but I guess you had to have your one fault, just 
    
    my luck that it would have to be jealousy.'
    
    Oliver's face paled and he collapsed onto the couch and buried his head in 
    
    his hands. That one gesture made all of Alison's anger dissipate, and she 
    
    could feel the hot tears rolling unabated down her cheeks. She sat down next 
    
    to him, and unconsciously Oliver placed his strong arms around her and 
    
    pulled her towards him.
    
    'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I don't ever want to lose you and when you 
    
    started spending time with Brett, I didn't know what to make of it. I'm 
    
    sorry. I should never have doubted you.'
    
    'You will never lose me…not even if you tried…'
    
    Oliver smiled feebly at her, and raised his fingers to her face. Alison 
    
    grinned mischievously and said, 'so, how come you're home early tonight?'
    
    'I told Jason that I had to talk to you…he understood.'
    
    'Well…since you're home early, why not make good use of the extra time.' 
    
    Alison got up and pulled Oliver into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly 
    
    behind them.
    
    *****
    
                   One full moon night, after practice finished early, Alison and Oliver 
    
    joined the rest of the team down at the pub. The music was just beginning to 
    
    pick up its pace and the various dancers were beginning to set up the groove 
    
    on the dance floor. Alison and Oliver were having the times of their lives 
    
    and it would not be an exaggeration to say that they were both a little 
    
    tipsy from drinking a tad too much alcohol. Jason watched in amusement as 
    
    the pair broke out into a ridiculous combination of the waltz, the tango and 
    
    the foxtrot right in the middle of a fast rap song. Before he could comment 
    
    on it, however, his attention was diverted by the appearance of three highly 
    
    attractive women in the pub. And to his surprise, he realized that although 
    
    he recognized their famous features, he knew one of them personally. He 
    
    realized that he was looking at the three Weird Sisters.
    
    They made their way to the corner booth and sat down. They were all wearing 
    
    long capes and obviously didn't want to be recognized. Very discreetly, they 
    
    ordered something to drink and then began to discuss something under their 
    
    breath. Jason looked over at Celesta and at that precise moment, she looked 
    
    up and saw him staring. A flicker of recognition crossed her beautiful face. 
    
    She whispered something to her sisters, who immediately glanced over at 
    
    Jason. Feeling slightly embarrassed under their scrutinous gazes, he could 
    
    feel the blush creeping up his neck.  He looked back at the dance floor, 
    
    where Oliver and Alison were still doing their comical dance, and the next 
    
    thing he knew, a sultry voice from somewhere near his ear whispered, 'You 
    
    know, somehow it doesn't surprise me that those two are together.'
    
    Jason looked up in surprise to see Celesta standing next to him and gazing 
    
    at Alison and Oliver, a look of envy in her eyes. She grabbed his hand and 
    
    led him over to the table where her sisters were sitting and introduced them 
    
    to Jason. Jason noticed that all three sisters had raven black locks and 
    
    pale skin. But while Celesta had green eyes, Catalina had startlingly blue 
    
    eyes and Calista had smoky gray eyes. of the three, Catalina was the tallest 
    
    and then Celesta and Calista were about the same height. They were all 
    
    tremendously beautiful, with their long slender legs and their narrow 
    
    waists.
    
    He had just begun to talk to Celesta when Alison caught sight of Celesta. 
    
    She grinned widely and dragged Oliver over to where Jason and the Weird 
    
    sisters were sitting. Celesta jumped out of her chair and gave Alison a huge 
    
    hug, before pecking Oliver on the cheek. As the night grew old, the 
    
    Puddlemere United team clustered around the Weird sisters to listen to 
    
    Celesta and Jason's account of the dance competition.
    
    *****
    
                   The next morning, when Alison awoke, she found that Oliver had already left 
    
    for practice. A little miffed that he hadn't woken her up to say goodbye, 
    
    she rolled out of bed and slouched into the bathroom for a shower. The 
    
    knowledge that she was all alone was incredibly liberating, and for the 
    
    first time in a while, she began to sing in the shower, using the showerhead 
    
    as a mike. It was only when the water began to get cold that she decided 
    
    that her shower had obviously gone on long enough. She got out of the 
    
    shower, wrapped a towel around herself and then walked into the kitchen to 
    
    make herself a cup of tea. She very nearly didn't notice them at all as she 
    
    walked through the living room. In fact, had one of them not cleared their 
    
    throat, she would not have known of their presence. As it was, when she 
    
    heard someone clearing their throat, not five feet away from her, she 
    
    screamed and turned on the person. Her mouth dropped open as she saw who was 
    
    sitting on her coach. The Weird Sisters were sitting in her living room.
    
                   She yelped loudly and clutched her towel tighter around her. The three 
    
    sisters looked more than a little alarmed. After a few awkwardly silent 
    
    seconds, Celesta muttered, 'we're soooo sorry…we didn't mean to startle you, 
    
    but Oliver told us to just come in and wait.'
    
    Recovering from the shock, Alison smiled weakly and said that it was all 
    
    right. She scurried off to the bedroom, and two minutes later, she 
    
    reappeared, this time wearing a pair of faded jeans and an oversized shirt.
    
    She sat down on the couch opposite the famous singers and said, 'So…what 
    
    brings you here?'
    
    'Oh, we were getting a bit bored…we have a three day break before our next 
    
    concert, so we thought we'd come and see you.'
    
    'Wicked! Ok, there's a whole bunch of things we can do…we can go shopping, 
    
    but I expect the shopping here is nothing compared to London. We could go 
    
    watch the practice and if we ask nicely, Jason might let us join in…' Alison 
    
    trailed off as she saw the look pass between the three sisters. A little 
    
    puzzled, she enquired 'What's the matter? Is something wrong?'
    
    Catalina cleared her throat and then replied, 'We heard you singing in the 
    
    shower…'
    
    'Oh, sorry about that…I thought that I was alone.'
    
    'I don't know if anyone's ever told you this, but you've got a spectacular 
    
    voice.'
    
    A little startled, Alison groped for words but couldn't find any. So 
    
    Catalina continued, 'originally, we just came here to hang out, you know, 
    
    pass the time, but now…we have an offer for you, a career proposition, if 
    
    you will…we were wondering if perhaps you have ever considered a career as a 
    
    singer.'
    
    'WHAT?!?!?!?!'
    
    Calista interjected, 'You certainly look the part, and from what Celesta 
    
    tells us, you're an incredibly dancer.'
    
    'Yeah…and we'd be more than happy to give your career a bit of a jump 
    
    start…we're looking for another singer to help us with our latest single and 
    
    from what we just heard while you were in the shower, you would be perfect, 
    
    ' added Celesta.
    
    Alison looked at the three singers seated opposite her with a look of shock 
    
    on her face. In an incredulous voice, she asked, 'Ok, let me get this 
    
    straight…you want me to sing on your latest album?? Are you sure you're not 
    
    pulling my leg?'
    
    But as she looked at their straight faces that were completely without any 
    
    signs that might suggest they were joking, she knew they were being totally 
    
    serious in their proposition. Alison let out a deep breath and then said, 
    
    'I'm going to make myself some milk…would you like some tea or coffee…or 
    
    something?'
    
    'No, not really…Alison, we need to know soon. Because otherwise, we're going 
    
    to have to scrap the single…and we don't want to do that. It has great 
    
    potential.'
    
    Alison hesitated for a few seconds, and then replied, 'ok…I'll try to do it, 
    
    but maybe my voice only works in the shower or something…'
    
    The three sisters bust out laughing at this ridiculous suggestion. After 
    
    trying to look slightly affronted, Alison finally gave up and began to laugh 
    
    too. When they had calmed down again, Alison nodded her head and said, 'I'll 
    
    do it…when do I start??'
    
    'We're meeting our manager for lunch. Why don't you come along? Obviously 
    
    he'll want to hear you sing, so after lunch maybe you could come to the 
    
    recording studio or something…just for a trial, of course,' replied 
    
    Catalina.
    
    'No problem…I'll be ready in five minutes.'
    
    Alison was just walking back into her bedroom to change, when the three 
    
    singers got up and insisted on helping her get dressed. They insisted that 
    
    she had to make a really good impression on their manager.
    
    Half an hour later, Alison was ready. She was wearing a pair of tight black 
    
    jeans that emphasized her long slender legs and a blood red turtleneck top 
    
    that offset the chocolate brown colour of her skin. Even though she would 
    
    never admit it to anyone, she was feeling terribly nervous. She had always 
    
    enjoyed singing, but she had never considered becoming a singer. And then 
    
    there was the fact that everything was going so fast…she hadn't even had 
    
    time to tell Oliver.
    
    *****
    
                   When Oliver finished practice, the sun was just setting. Quickly, he 
    
    changed into a pair of old jeans and then strolled home. He unlocked the 
    
    door and pushed it open. Immediately, he was struck by the tomblike silence 
    
    inside. Slightly worried, he shut the door behind him and then yelled 
    
    'Alison…I'm home!!'
    
    When Alison didn't respond, he felt the first flutters of panic within his 
    
    stomach. He rushed into the bedroom, and to his immense relief, he found her 
    
    lying on the bed, dressed in a pair of jeans and a red top. He sat down next 
    
    to her, and kissed her lips gently. She moaned softly and her eyelids 
    
    fluttered open. When she saw Oliver, she smiled up at him. Wrapping her arms 
    
    around his neck, she pulled him lower, until their noses were practically 
    
    touching. She pressed her lips firmly against his and pulled him closer 
    
    still until he was lying on top of her. *Explanations can wait,* she thought 
    
    to herself.
    
    Later that night, as the two of them lay beneath the covers, Alison decided 
    
    that it was time to tell Oliver what had happened that day. Oliver was in 
    
    the middle of telling her about practice, but he soon realized that she 
    
    wasn't paying too much attention to him. Propping himself up on his hand, he 
    
    smiled down at Alison and murmured, 'Go on then, I know you want to tell me 
    
    something.'
    
    Alison smiled inwardly…somehow Oliver always knew when she had something on 
    
    her mind. trying to ignore his fingers that were now caressing her legs, she 
    
    took a deep breath and then said, 'Oliver, I got a job offer…from the Weird 
    
    Sisters. They heard me singing in the shower and they offered me a 
    
    contract.'
    
    Oliver looked at her as if she had gone mad, and said, 'you're joking, 
    
    right?!'
    
    Alison shook her head and continued, 'No…I talked to their manager…I had the 
    
    trial as well, and then he gave me the contract…it's on the table.'
    
    Oliver jumped out of bed and walked over to the table. He picked up the 
    
    official looking contract and stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. 
    
    Then finally, he looked over at Alison, his eyes sparkling with excitement 
    
    and exclaimed., 'This is really a contract…an actual contract to sing a 
    
    single with the Weird Sisters. Do you know how huge this is???'
    
    Alison laughed with relief when she realized that she couldn't have asked 
    
    for a more supportive and positive response. In response, she told Oliver, 
    
    'The recording is tomorrow…I have the music and the lyrics and I've pretty 
    
    much learnt my part…its just that I am so nervous. this is going way too 
    
    fast…shouldn't I think this over…maybe talk to dad about this…'
    
    'Don't worry about Sirius, I'll tell him. He'll probably come running down 
    
    here to congratulate you. Now go to sleep…you've got a big day tomorrow.'
    
    Oliver crept back under the covers and snuggled against Alison's warm body. 
    
    He wrapped his muscular arms around her and pulled her close to him. Alison 
    
    sighed contentedly and the last thing she remembered before she fell asleep 
    
    was Oliver's fingers caressing the length of her back.


	11. Chapter 11

Oliver paced up and down the corridor outside the main recording studio, looking for all the world like a father waiting impatiently for his child to be born. Having no knowledge of anything to do with the music industry, whether magical or Muggle, he did not have a clue how long this process would last. He had sent off an owl to Sirius telling him the news but he knew that it would be a few days before he got a reply. Alison, for her part, had been too nervous to think of sending her father an owl. Indeed, it was only when Oliver reminded her that she realized that normal people ate lunch at around one o'clock in the afternoon. Not that she could be blamed. He had glanced into the studio, just before Alison had entered, and it seemed like a Muggle lovers dream come true. The room was filled with various metal objects that had looked completely foreign to Oliver. Alison, on the other hand, strode into the room with her head held high and the first thing that she did was enquire about the specifications of one oblong metal object. Oliver had caught the impressed look that flitted across the face of the "music people" as he called them, and he had felt a sudden surge of pride.
    
                   Now, nearly two hours later, the pride was fading fast and was being replaced by anxiety. He had made more than five trips to the little coffee shop at the end of the corridor, but the caffeine in the coffee did not seem to be working its wonders anymore. He had only just reached the decision to make one last trip to the coffee shop before enquiring after Alison, when the door opened and she walked out followed by the three Weird Sisters. When she saw Oliver, she smiled warmly at him. 
    
    'You didn't have to wait for me, you know…I'm sure Jason is wondering why you're not at practice,' she said.
    
    'Yeah, well, I told him that it was important that I be here to support you in your time of need,' replied Oliver, before wrapping his arms around her and brushing his lips against her forehead. 
    
    Alison giggled and was about to say something in way of a retort when she heard Celesta clearing her throat. Staying put in Oliver's tight embrace, she turned to look at the three famous singers. 
    
    'We are aware that you and Oliver probably cannot wait to get home and *ahem* celebrate, but we thought that you would like to know that the song will be premiering on the WWN tonight at nine,' said Celesta, raising her eyebrows so high that they were almost lost in her sleek black hair. 
    
    Aghast, Oliver broke in, 'Whoa…wait just one second…do you mean to tell me that I, as Alison's boyfriend, don't get to hear this song until its broadcasted on the WWN?!?! How is that fair??'
    
    Giggling, Alison draped her arm around his waist, and whispered coyly, 'Patience, my love, is a virtue that you have yet to master…' 
    
    'Well, perhaps you could teach me once we get home…' whispered back Oliver, a grin playing on his lips. 
    
    *****
    
                   Alison felt for the keys to the front door in the pockets of her jeans, but she couldn't seem to find them. Cursing under her breath, she began the search again. Trying not to smirk at her, Oliver pulled out his wand and pointing it at the door, muttered, '_alohomora_'. Slightly annoyed, more at herself than at Oliver, she pushed the door open but before she could step into the house, Oliver had grasped her around the waist and pulled her towards him. she opened her mouth to try and voice her amusement at the fact that he couldn't even wait till they were within the privacy of their own house, but before the words could alight from her lips, Oliver pressed his finger against them. Alison closed her eyes as his lips took the place of his finger and his fingers in turn, began to caress her back. Without warning, he swept her off her feet and carried her across the threshold and into the house, managing at the same time, to kick the front door shut. When their lips broke apart, he murmured a spell under his breath and a beautiful red rose blossomed on his fingertips. Holding the stem of the rose between his teeth, he made as if to carry her into the bedroom, but managed to make it only as far as the living room couch. Gently, he placed her on the soft upholstery. Removing the rose from between his teeth, he ran its petals down the side of her face, inciting an involuntary spasm of pleasure to course through Alison's body. He lowered his lips to hers, caressing, exploring her tender skin. He felt her arms encircle his body and pull him onto her, but did nothing to resist. The kisses grew more urgent and the caresses more intimate with time. Oliver's mind was spinning, he was lost in a fog and he couldn't care less, but suddenly, suddenly, the sound of a door being slammed shut cleared the fog from his mind and his finely tuned Quidditch instincts took over. He attempted to roll off the couch at the very same instant that Alison tried to sit up, and as a result, Oliver went flying into a nearby vase, cracking it in half. The very next second, Alison registered with horror the presence of another wizard in the house, but before she could reach her wand, the two people she had least expected to see came bounding into the living room to see her; her father and uncle Remus. 
    
                   They both stopped short when they saw both Alison and Oliver's tousled appearances. Alison looked fairly presentable with the exception of her hair that looked very similar to a large porcupine. Oliver, on the other hand, did not look quite so decent. The buttons on his shirt had either been undone or ripped off. His belt was draped across the top of the lamp,  its buckle glinting in the light. Like Alison, his hair too, was a mess. As the two father figures in Alison's life took this all in, Alison and Oliver exchanged sheepish grins. Sirius sat down heavily in the nearest armchair, and Remus followed suit almost immediately.  A bit unsteady as a result of his head hitting the vase, he walked over to where Alison was sitting, still in a state of shock and embarrassment, and sat down beside her. 
    
                   Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Oliver chirped, 'How GOOD to see you…what a PLEASANT surprise!' His voice sounded awfully high pitched, even to Oliver himself and as both Sirius and Remus could see quite plainly from the expressions of the young couple that the surprise had been anything but pleasant, this statement went down like a lead balloon. Oliver noticed the slightly thundery expression on Sirius's face and opened his mouth again to try and rectify the damage but before he could say anymore, Alison placed her hand on his and subsequently, Oliver closed his mouth again. Remus took a deep breath and then muttered, 'I told Sirius we should have sent an owl first.'
    
    'Yeah, yeah, but I figured that she would be happier to see me if I dropped in unannounced,' growled back Sirius. 
    
    'I AM happy to see you, dad…its just that you took me by surprise. I would have cleaned up, made dinner and that sort of thing,' retorted Alison. 
    
    'I don't know what I was expecting…but you're old enough to be responsible for your own actions and make your own decisions…' said Sirius, more to himself than to Alison. Alison grinned and replied, 'Yeah, well, its my decision that we have pasta tonight.'
    
    Sirius smiled fondly at his only daughter and Remus leaned over and hugged Alison. Surprised, she asked, 'What was that for?'
    
    'Maybe we got it wrong, but I was under the impression that you just got a major singing contract…' replied Remus, a little taken aback. 
    
    'Oh, THAT! Yeah, it was incredible!' squealed Alison in excitement. Oliver threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand. The four talked for through the evening and Remus had them all in stitches of laughter as he recounted the tale of how his parents had caught him in a pub one night and not recognized him on account of the fact that they were so tipsy that they could barely walk. Sirius even told them how mortified he had been when he realized that Alison's mother, his girlfriend had heard him talking about her to James. 'I never lived that one down,' he wheezed through his laughter. 
    
                   At nine that night, the four of them settled down around the radio set to listen to the premiering of the "latest single by the Weird Sisters, featuring the new sound of Alison Adams!" as the show host proclaimed in what could only be described as a highly animated voice. Alison smiled sheepishly at her father when the host said the word "Adams" but before she could explain to her father why she had thought it best not to use the name Black, he smiled at her and she realized, with utmost relief, that he understood completely. Alison hadn't heard the fully edited version of the song yet, but as she heard the opening chords, her heart began to flutter in anticipation. She studied her companions' expressions but to her disappointment, they were inscrutable. She tried to ignore the sounds of her own voice pouring into the room, but when the three Weird Sisters joined in for the chorus of "Voulez-vous couchez avec moi?', she had to look up at her father to see his reaction. An incredulous look on his face, he glanced at her, but if Alison had been having any misgivings about agreeing to sing this particular song, they evaporated into thin air as the look of astonishment on her father's face was replaced by a look of pride. Remus and Oliver, on the other hand, remained stony faced until the song had ended, and the host asked for the listeners to send in their opinions of the new song. 
    
                   The first caller, a Scottish girl by the name of Charlotte, squealed her approval of the song. 'It is incredible…definitely their best song yet. Its so upbeat and catchy, I can just tell it's going to be a huge, huge hit!'
    
    'And the new singer, Alison Adams…what do you think of her?' asked the host, and Alison held her breath. 
    
    'She is an AMAZING singer. What a voice! She's got talent, and shed loads of it. And with a song as good as this as her first single, I think she's got a great future.'

Alison's heart soared at this evaluation and when Oliver squeezed her hand, and whispered, 'she's right…you've got an incredible voice,' her happiness knew no bounds. Remus smiled broadly at her, and for once, seemed to be at a loss for words, and so instead just hugged her tightly. Sirius, in complete contrast, was much more vocal in his approval. Alison wondered if he could have been more excited had it been him singing on the radio. She reached out to turn off the radio, but Oliver knocked her hand away from the dial. 'I want to hear what the rest of the world thinks of my girlfriend, the singing sensation,' he proclaimed proudly. And so they listened, for close to an hour, as listener after listener praised Alison and commended the Weird Sisters on finding such untapped natural talent. No sooner had the show ended than the head of Celesta Weird appeared amid the flames in the fireplace.


	12. Chapter 12

               In the twinkling of an eye, Sirius had disappeared and had been replaced by a shaggy haired black dog. Not that Celesta would have noticed him even if he danced around in front of her naked as the day he was born. She had eyes only for Alison, and her smile was one of intense pride at the success of her protégé. 
    
    'Did you listen to the show?' she asked without any preamble. 
    
    'Yeah, I did…' replied Alison.
    
    'What did you think of the finished song?' asked Celesta, not bothering to hide her impatience. 
    
    'It was good,' said Alison, 'really good…I couldn't believe that was me.'
    
    'I told you that you had talent…anyway, I've been getting calls all evening from journalists. They all want to be the first to get an exclusive interview from you. So far, I haven't made any promises. I haven't even told them where you live, but Alison, I wont be able to hold them off for long. If you want, you can just come along with us when we give our interview. Is that alright?'
    
    Alison had listened to all of this in silence and accepted this proposal gratefully. Celesta then turned her attention to Alison's companions. Oliver she knew, but the other man was a stranger to her. She let her attention linger on the dog sitting at Alison's feet, but then turned her gaze back to Remus. Following her gaze, Alison introduced her to Remus, simply stating that she was an old family friend. Apparently satisfied, she enquired how Oliver's Quidditch was going, and then bid them all goodbye. 
    
                   Sirius waited a few minutes before reappearing as himself. Speechless with pride, he hugged Alison tightly, and had to be physically pulled away by Remus, who quipped 'Hey, let the rest of us have a go at her, would you?' Then, turning to Oliver, he said, in a stage whisper, 'Honestly, as if being her father gives him special rights!!'
    
                   Less than thirty minutes after Celesta had disappeared, there came a knock at the door. Puzzled, Oliver opened the door, and to his delight, saw his entire Quidditch team standing on his front doorstep with girlfriends and other acquaintances in tow. They pushed past Alison and descended on her like a pack of vultures. Jason was the first to get to her, and he pumped her hand up and down in congratulation, not realizing that he was doing more harm than good. It was only when the dog sitting at her feet growled that he let go. Brett was next, but instead of shaking her hand as Jason had, he pulled her into a tight hug. Oliver felt a slight twinge of unease when he saw how comfortable Alison looked in Brett's arms, but pushed it away as firmly as he could. *Alison loves me…she would never be unfaithful*, he thought to himself, *would she?*
    
                   The hug and the flash of jealousy on Oliver's face had not gone unnoticed by Sirius or Remus either, and both resolved to talk to Alison about it at a later stage. When Brett pulled away from Alison, he pointed to a dark haired man, standing shyly by the door and said, 'That's Mark.' Alison glanced at him, and when he realized that she was looking at him, he smiled timidly. Before she could say anything more to Brett, though, he was pushed out of the way by Adam, the beater and the joker of the team who thumped her on the back and then, stopped, looked around at the spectators with a comical expression on his face and whispered loudly, 'What exactly am I congratulating you for? Jason never tells me these things!!' He looked most insulted and all the people who heard roared in laughter. Pleased with himself, he waved his wand, and all of a sudden, Alison found herself being pelted with roses that seemed to be coming from somewhere in the ceiling. Adam bowed to his audience and said, 'While I appreciate the flowers, I would appreciate it more if you were to throw money!' On cue, the roses were replaced with golden galleons, and Alison had to take shelter behind Oliver to avoid getting hit on the head. But when one of the galleons hit Adam on the head with a loud *thunk*, he proclaimed in a grand voice, 'Now, now, there's no need to get violent just because the rest of you aren't as talented as me…or as attractive!' As Adam was anything but attractive, the crowd burst into peals of laughter and Adam began to pout and then to Alison's astonishment, tears began to, quite literally, pour down his face. When some of the crowd began to look ashamed of themselves, Adam popped up from where he had been crouching on the floor and hollered, 'Hah! Gotcha!!' 
    
    *****
    
            Three hours later, the house was empty save for Oliver, Alison, Remus and Sirius. Remus was in the shower as was Oliver. Normally, Alison would have hopped into the shower with Oliver, but she decided that her father had had enough of a shock for that day. After having cleaned the house, she had come outside to sit on the front steps for a while. Her father was inside making himself a cup of coffee. Alison knew that at any case, she was guaranteed at least half an hour of solitude. So it came as a huge shock to her when a voice hailed her from behind the hedge, a voice that she recognized to be Brett's. His face flushed from the chill night wind, he walked up the driveway and sat down next to her. Alison looked at him expectantly wondering what on earth he was doing there at this time of the night.
    
    'So, what did you think of Mark?' asked Brett, trying not to let his eagerness show. 
    
    'He was really nice…funny, handsome, a bit shy though…' replied Alison.
    
    'Yeah, he was really apprehensive about meeting you because you know about…us.'
    
    'Don't worry, tell him I approve of him completely!!'
    
    'Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me.' 
    
    'No problem…is that why you came back?? To ask if I liked him?'
    
    'Uhhh…yeah.' 
    
    Alison giggled at the sheepish look on Brett's face as he got up to leave and impulsively threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. 
    
    She watched him leave the way he had come and smiled, unaware of her father standing at the door behind her. When she turned to go back inside, she registered his presence with a jolt. He jerked his head at the living room and without a word, she followed him in. Deliberately avoiding the couch, Sirius sat down in one of the armchairs, and Alison sat down on the floor beside him. Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably and then said, 'Is there anything going on with Brett?'
    
    Shocked by his candor, Alison hesitated, and Sirius immediately assumed the worst. Shaking his head, he started to admonish her, but before he could pick up steam, Alison interrupted 'No, dad, there is NOTHING going on between me and Brett…'
    
    'Then, what was he doing here…what did he mean when he said "you know about…us" '
    
    'He meant…'
    
    'What? What's the big secret?'
    
    'When he said "us", he was talking about himself and his…boyfriend….'
    
    Sirius' mouth fell open in shock and his eyes bulged in disbelief. He  shook his head slightly and then said, 'Blimey, I must be getting old, my hearing's deteriorating…I thought you said "his boyfriend"…'
    
    'I did, daddy…Brett's gay. Mark, the guy he introduced to everyone as his best friend, is actually his boyfriend. Brett didn't want me to tell anyone…he didn't want to face the kind of prejudice that goes along with it.'
    
    Sirius let out a long whistle, and muttered, 'Well, it could be worse!' 
    
    Alison grinned and said, 'I cant believe you thought I was cheating on Oliver…come to think of it, that's what Oliver thought too…good thing I straightened him out!'
    
    Sirius remembered the flash of jealousy that had crossed Oliver's face when Alison had hugged Brett but thought it best not to bring it up. Oliver had obviously already confronted Alison about this and Sirius could see no reason to dredge up ghosts of the past. 
    
    *****
    
                   The next morning, Alison was awakened by the sound of Catalina's voice calling to her from the fireplace. Pulling on a dressing gown, she rushed into the living room to find her father in canine form lying on the couch and Remus sitting up groggily on a makeshift bed on the floor. Catalina looked beautiful, her fairy tale features thrown into sharp relief by the flames dancing around her. Alison sat at the end of the couch and looked expectantly at the head suspended in the fire. 
    
    'Just thought you might be interested to know that we're giving Witch Weekly an interview today, at three in the afternoon. Would you like to join us?'
    
    'Yeah…yeah, that would be great. Thanks Cat…' squeaked Alison. 
    
    'No problem…meet us Witch Weekly headquarters…use the Floo network, they're expecting us,' said Catalina, trying not to smile at Alison's sudden nervousness. 
    
                   The morning flew by much too fast for Alison. When Oliver heard about the interview, his face creased into a frown. A bit taken aback, Alison asked him what the matter was.
    
    'I cant miss another practice…Jason will flip out. Damn, I wanted us to go through this thing together,' moaned Oliver. 
    
    Alison smiled at her boyfriend, and kissed him lightly before saying, 'Well, you cant be there every second if you want to be a Quidditch player! Tell you what, why don't you take Remus and dad to practice and let them watch…I'll go to the interview…ok?'
    
    Oliver looked a little unsure, but Sirius piped up, 'hell, yeah, that's a great idea…I want to see a professional team in action! Besides, Harry threatened to expose me if I didn't get him all of your autographs…'

Alison watched the three of them walk towards the Quidditch pitch and then, all of a sudden, realized that she had to pick out suitable clothes. Trying not to panic about her first public appearance, she tried on all her outfits, but none of them seemed appropriate. She wasn't even sure if she was expected to dress in Muggle clothes. Frustrated, she summoned Celesta through the fireplace and explained her predicament. Celesta suggested that, as she and her two sisters were wearing robes, it might not be a bad idea for Alison to follow their lead. Alison opened her wardrobe and pulled out her limited selection of dress robes. Evidently not satisfied with any of them, Celesta promised to be over in five minutes. And sure enough, five minutes later, Celesta apparated into the living room, with a tasteful red robe slung over her arm. Quickly, Alison pulled them on, and it was as she was doing this that she realized that Celesta was wearing a lot of make up. Surreptitiously, she slid into the bathroom and dabbed a bit of lipstick onto her lips and swiped a stick of eyeliner under her eyes. Satisfied with her appearance, she strolled out of the bathroom and presented herself to Celesta for the final inspection. Much to her relief, Celesta deemed her presentable, though in reality, Alison looked as gorgeous as all three Weird Sisters put together even with the limited make up that she was wearing. Without further delay, the two stepped into the fire one after the other and with a searing flash of green, they were gone.    

      Alison covered her eyes as she spun round and round in the fireplace and just as she felt that she couldn't take any more, the spinning slowed and she felt herself being shoved out of the grate into a vast room. Celesta stepped out behind her, a great deal more composedly, it must be said. Immediately, flashlights went off in their faces and Alison realized that they were in what seemed to be a vast hall, filled with journalists and cameramen.  She put her hands to her eyes to shield them from the bright flashlights that seemed to be going off at regular intervals. Celesta grabbed hold of Alison's arm and led her firmly through the thronging crowd of reporters towards a door at the far end of the hall. As they neared it, it was thrown open by a face that Alison recognized instantly as belonging to the editor of Witch Weekly: Greta Robins. She smiled warmly at the two women standing in front of her and ushered them through into the adjoining room.

The silence that fell, when compared to the roaring of the crowd less than three feet away, was unnatural. This room, unlike the previous, was much more tastefully done. The walls were painted a pale shade of lilac and deep purple armchairs sat near the fireplace. An exquisite rug covered the wood paneled floor. At the sound of the door closing, a woman who had been sitting in one of the armchairs stood up. She smiled warmly at Celesta, but as her gaze wandered to Alison, it faltered slightly. Sensing the woman's uncertainty, Alison thrust her hand forward and said, 'I'm Alison…Alison Adams.' 

Taken aback at Alison's spontaneity, she hesitated before smiling and saying, 'What a pleasure to meet you, Alison…my goodness, Celesta told us you were captivatingly beautiful, but I found that hard to believe…until now. My name is Keila Thomas and I shall be conducting this interview, once the other two get here, of course.'

Almost on cue, the door opened and Catalina and Calista walked in. They grinned at the room's occupants and then sat down in the purple armchairs. Greta waited for them all the be seated before she said, 'I'd better get going…I have things to do, people to see…you know how it is…I'll be back in an hour or so.' 

After she left, Keila turned to Alison and said, 'I wonder Alison if you would mind terribly if I were to do an individual interview on you…you see, everyone already knows the Weird Sisters, but you are a completely unknown entity.' 

Alison hesitated. She wasn't sure she was ready to be interviewed all on her own. Reading her mind, Calista said, 'don't worry about it…you can just say you don't want to answer a question if it seems too personal.' 

'Yes, absolutely…' added Keila. 

Alison nodded reluctantly and Keila beamed at her. 'I'll do their interview first…it'll only take about five minutes…could you wait?' she asked hopefully.

Again, Alison nodded and then allowed her mind to wander as Keila asked the Weird Sisters what had inspired them to write this song and where they had stumbled across Alison Adams. Alison felt her ears burning as Celesta embellished the details of how they had first met at Hogwarts and how Alison had been spectacular in the competition. 

Finally, after ten minutes, Keila wrapped up the interview. To Alison's alarm, the three sisters walked out of the room after bidding her goodbye and promising to contact her later that night. Keila walked back to the couch and settled herself down again, this time opposite Alison. She pulled out an acid green quill, sucked its tip and then placed it on a new piece of parchment. Alison had heard about this quill…it was called a Quick Quotes quill, and it was frequently used by journalists, thus allowing them to converse freely with their guests. 

Before either Alison or Keila opened their mouth, the quill began to move across the paper. Transfixed, Alison stared at it, and was startled when Keila asked the first question. 

'So Alison, have you had any singing experience in the past…be it concerts or maybe in pubs…' she asked.

'No…I sang a bit with my mother in Durban, but nothing professionally.'

'And where is your mother now?'

'Uh…she passed away some time ago…' Alison voice faltered and Keila grimaced apologetically.

'I'm terribly sorry…Celesta Weird said she first met you at a dance competition at Hogwarts. Tell us about that.'

'Well, it started off as a Muggle Studies project, really, but it turned into a full-blown contest before long. I was in Gryffindor, and we won the competition. It was great.'

'There's a theory that beautiful people are often not very well academically endowed. You, looking the way you do, must have some thoughts on that…did you do well at Hogwarts.'

'Yeah, I did. And that is such a stupid theory…next people will be saying that sportspeople aren't very smart.'

'And that is a sensitive subject for you because…'

'Because I used to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as the chaser, and more importantly, my boyfriend is a professional Quidditch player. No one would call him stupid, he came second in his year at Hogwarts.'

'I think you just dashed a few hundred male hearts the world over with that last statement.' 

'What statement?'

'The one about your boyfriend…tell us about him.'

'Well, I'd rather not…our relationship is very special, I don't want it to be tainted by public exposure.'

'Of course…what about your manager? Have you decided on someone yet?'

'No, I actually hadn't thought about it until you mentioned it right now…I'll probably scout around a bit.'

'What about the future? Do you have any plans about an album perhaps?'

'Oh, definitely…I want to be a singer, not just a One-Hit wonder.'

'Who, would you say, are your greatest influences?'

'Well, musically, I don't really have one idol…I like a lot of Muggle music, to tell the truth. But throughout my life, I've always looked up to my father…he's a incredible man. And he sings too. Hell, I think he sings "Hotel California" better than the Eagles.'

'Well then, it's no wonder that you are such an amazing singer…it's in your blood. Thank you so much for your time, Alison, and we hope to see a lot more of you in the near future. Good luck!'

'Thank you, Keila, it has been a pleasure talking to you.'

Keila grinned at her and grabbed the quill off the parchment. She then handed Alison the parchment and said, 'This is the transcript of the interview verbatim…if you want anything removed, please let me know.'

'No, no, it looks just fine. It was great meeting you, Keila.'

Keila led her to the door and the moment the door swung open, all the flashbulbs blinded Alison. Keila slung her arm across Alison shoulder and together they posed for the cameras for a minute or two before Alison dashed towards the fireplace, tossed in the Floo powder, stated her address but not loudly enough to be overheard and then stepped into the fireplace. In a green flash, she was gone and the journalists and cameramen sighed in disappointment. 

*****

      The next few weeks were peppered with events that incited varying degrees of interest in the people involved. One of the first things to happen was the publishing of the Witch Weekly, which resulted in Alison being flooded with letters from friends at Hogwarts. Alicia, Katie and Angelina sounded tremendously thrilled and promised to listen out for the new song…they explained that they had been neglecting the WWN for a while due to the fact that it was NEWTs year that year for them and all the teachers seemed determined to press their noses to the grindstone. Harry didn't manage to write more than two sentences before breaking into congratulatory speech. Fred and George's letter was, to Alison's amusement, a highly amusing one. It was something called a hologram in Muggle terms and they had simply modified it to work with magic.  When Alison opened up the letter, a hologram of Fred and George, in what Alison assumed must have been an underground dungeon, whooping loudly and blowing various instruments that seemed to appear magically before them. They ended quite hastily, though, possibly because the ruckus must have attracted Filch's attention. Hermione sent a letter of her own, one that painted a vivid picture of all the happenings at Hogwarts, including the huge feud between herself and Ron. Alison smiled as she read about that… she had a feeling that the two of them would eventually end up together. Even Cedric and Cho wrote and congratulated her. The first day yielded the most letters, twelve to be precise, and the second day was no better. After a while, Oliver didn't bother to look at the name on the letter…he simply handed it to Alison, a look of resignation on his face. 

      A week after the interview was published, Oliver's practices began to increase in volume. Jason pushed them all to the limit, and there was, in fact, one incredibly exhausting day, when Oliver was in the air for a little more than thirteen hours. A further four hours was spent that day going over various tactics. When he got home, it took all of Oliver's effort and willpower to drag himself into the bedroom and fall asleep. Alison looked on in alarm, and wondered if, underneath the amicable exterior, Jason was really a ruthless, tyrannical captain who cared about nothing but winning. This fear was completely unfounded, however, and Alison was most relieved when Oliver came home early the next night. After that, the practices were kept down to acceptable level of about ten hours a day. Alison didn't mind this, as she had plenty to do to keep herself occupied. She had yet to find herself a manager, though it was not for lack of offers. In the worst-case scenario, she'd just use the Weird Sisters manager until she found her own. As it was, she had other things on her mind. She was working on a song, but she wanted to do it all herself, from the lyrics to the accompanying music. When Oliver did get home early one night, it was to find Alison sitting in the living room near the hearth, completely surrounded by parchment, and wonder of wonders, a guitar that she had borrowed from Mark. When she looked up and saw him, she sntched up all the pieces of parchment and shoved them under her arm. 

'What was that for,' asked Oliver when she returned from the bedroom after having stashed the parchments away somewhere. 

'Nothing, it's just a song that I'm working on…'

'Well, why can't I see it, or hear it for that matter?'

'Because it's not done yet, but I promise I'll play it for you once its finished.'

Oliver stalked off into the bedroom, muttering darkly about how even his girlfriend kept secrets from him. In the living room, Alison felt a flutter of guilt at not sharing her work with Oliver and resolved to be much more open from then on. She heard the shower being turned on and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She was walking into the bedroom when the shower was turned off and Oliver came charging out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a fluffy blue towel that was knotted firmly around his waist. He was apparently in a state of great excitement, and without drying himself off, he plopped down onto the bed beside Alison. 

'I forgot to tell you earlier…the date for our first league match has been finalized. It's this Monday!'

Alison's heart plummeted into her shoes, but she pasted a smile on her face, and kissed Oliver hard. Despite the now familiar tingle that rushed through her every time she kissed Oliver, she couldn't squash the dread that filled her as she realized that Monday was the day she had booked the recording studio to record her new song. She did some calculations in her head and estimated that it would take her no less than five hours to record the song properly. Quidditch matches, however, tended to start at about ten o'clock in the morning, which meant that if Alison were to start recording at five in the morning, she would be able to make it to Oliver's first professional match. Filled with resolve to do just that, she broke off the kiss and crawled under the covers, leaving Oliver a bit confused as to what she thought she was doing. Winking at him mischievously, she patted the bed beside her and then raised one eyebrow at him suggestively. Getting her drift, Oliver leaned over and ran his fingers through her hair. 

'I love you…you know that, don't you?' he whispered in a sultry voice, before lowering his lips to her neck. 

*****

Alison had the whole day planned out, right to the last second. Her alarm rang at four thirty in the morning, and she hopped out of bed as quickly and silently as possible. She dressed and showered, and then scribbled a quick note to Oliver, explaining where she was going, all the while assuring him that she would be back in time for the match. She knew that Oliver would be upset, but she also knew that as long as she made the start of the match, he wouldn't make too much of a song and dance about it, or so she hoped. She had tried to move the recording to another day, but every other day for the next two weeks was booked. Once she was ready, she tiptoed back into the bedroom, kissed Oliver goodbye, and then, after doing a quick check to make sure she had everything she needed, she left for the recording studio. 

Oliver woke up a good two hours later and instinctively stretched his arms out to touch Alison. When his fingers met nothing but thin air, he sat up and looked about in a bleary eyed sort of way. Before he could press the panic button, however, he saw the note that Alison had stuck to the cupboard door. He rolled out of bed with a grunt and peeled the note off the door. 

'Dear Oliver,' it read, 'I have gone to the recording studio to record the new song I've been working on for the past week. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before, but I didn't want to worry you before your big match. Don't worry, I will definitely be there cheering you on today. 

I love you.

Alison.'

Oliver tried to control the growing annoyance that was bubbling within him. Perhaps he was being selfish, but he thought it only fair to expect his girlfriend to spend the day with him on the most important day of his life. Once the feeling of frustration subsided, he consoled himself by telling himself that Alison would never miss his match. As he ate breakfast and dressed for a last minute practice session, he kept telling himself that Alison would be there for him. By the time he walked out of the door, he was convinced of it.  

*****

     Oliver sat in the changing room five minutes before the start of the match, not really listening to what Jason was saying. He couldn't believe hat Alison hadn't arrived yet. He felt so betrayed and didn't try to control the anger that he felt bubbling up within himself. He had lost all hope that Alison would be there. The whistle was blown and the Puddlemere United team charged out onto the field, Oliver bringing up the rear. He looked around the vast stadium, but even though he couldn't see any of the faces in the crowd, he knew instinctively that Alison wasn't there, that she had broken her promise.

      He shook his head to remove her face from his mind. Jason had hammered into his head the fact that the Hollyhead Harpies had one of the best offenses in the league and that Oliver would have to be sharp as a whistle to intercept their throws. And sure enough, no sooner had the match started that the Harpies Chasers gained possession of the Quaffle and pelted it at Oliver, several times in succession. To Oliver's credit, rather than letting the anger burning inside him cloud his vision, he channeled it all into punching the Quaffle away with as much force as possible. The Harpies Keeper wasn't quite so lucky. She let in three goals in the  first ten minutes, and even from all the way across the pitch, Oliver could see that she was tiring fast of fending off the Quaffle. Oliver had just saved the seventeenth goal so that the score read 60-nil in favor of Puddlemere when Brett plunged towards the ground at breakneck speed. He swerved to avoid a Bludger that had been hit straight at him, but all the while kept his eyes on the golden speck little more than an arm's length away from them. The crowd was on its  feet now, cheering wildly and dancing around in the bleachers. It seemed to Oliver that the rest of the players had come to a virtual standstill as they watched Brett's fingers close around the fluttering golden Snitch, just a fraction of a second before the Harpies Seeker's fingers closed on thin air. The match was over, and Oliver punched his fist in the air. Puddlemere United had won by 210 points, a sizeable amount indeed. Brett let out a huge whoop and Jason flew towards him to thump him on the back. The team descended to the ground together, looking for all the world, like a single many armed entity. 

     Oliver held his breath as he waited for Alison to rush onto the field to congratulate him, to hug him and tell him how proud she was of him, but he waited in vain. All around him, people were celebrating, but with the realization that Alison had missed the whole match, Oliver's jubilation turned to bitterness and rage. He stalked into the changing room, showered quickly and pulled on his clothes. Just as the rest of the team was uncorking a bottle of champagne, Oliver yanked open the door and stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, a complete contrast to the darkness of Oliver's mood. 

*****

     He pushed open the front door and heard a faint snoring, coming from the bedroom. His face grim, he eased open the bedroom door and found Alison lying on the bed fully dressed. On the way over, he had promised himself that if Alison had a reasonable explanation, he would let the whole thing go, but the thought that she had missed his match because she had been asleep enraged him. He threw his bag across the room, and it hit the wall with a resounding thud. Alison sat up in bed, looking completely disorientated. When she saw Oliver, however, she realized that she had missed his match. Before she could apologize and explain to Oliver what had happened, he slammed the door shut and then whispered, 'I would have thought that you would at least come to the match because it is important to me…but you didn't! You promised me that you would but you didn't. And it's not even as though you were recording. No, No, you missed my match because you had to catch up on your beauty sleep!'

'I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I got back from the recording at 9:30 and thought that I'd close my eyes for a few seconds. I was so sleepy, Oliver…and I, I must have drifted off. I'm sorry!'

'YOU'RE SORRY? ALISON, YOU MISSED THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF MY LIFE! I…I feel like I barely know you any more. You're always working on your music. You never tell me things. You never told me that the recording was today…why didn't you tell me? We used to tell each other everything? How did that change? When did that change?'

'And what would you have done if I had told you the recording was today…you would have told me to change the date of the recording…'

'HELL, YEAH! That's exactly what I would have told you!'

'I tried to move it forward, but the studio as booked for the next two weeks!'

'Oh, and I suppose it would have killed you to wait two weeks to record your precious song! You are so selfish! I needed you there today, but your songs are more important that anything, aren't they? They're more important than me!'

Now it was Alison's turn to get angry. She took a deep breath before saying, 'I am NOT going to put my life on hold for you…today was an important day for me, too! I RECORDED MY FIRST SONG…IN CASE YOU DIDN'T REMEMBER. I made this commitment long before you told me that your match was on the same day…I made a commitment I could not break.'

'YOU SHOULD HAVE BROKEN IT…FOR ME!'

'WHAT? WHY IS YOUR CAREER MORE IMPORTANT THAN MINE, OLIVER? BECAUSE YOU'RE A GUY? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS ABOUT? MALE EGO?'

'No, it's more important because mine is a real career.'

'AND MINE IS NOT? OLIVER, THIS IS MY DREAM, JUST LIKE QUIDDITCH IS YOURS! I can't believe you think my career is a joke, a farce!'

'It's not that…it's just-'

'It is EXACTLY that!'

With that, Alison stalked over to the cupboard, pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt, stuffed them in a bag, and then headed for the door. Oliver stared after her in amazement. 

'Where the fck do you think you're going?'

'To dad's…I need to be alone…away from you!' she snapped.

'Fine, fine, leave! See if I care!'

Alison yanked open the door and walked out into the dusk. She was halfway down the road when she disapparated with a loud *pop*. Oliver sank back into the sofa and buried his head in his hands. He had just sent the love of his life back to her father and he felt terrible and guilty for all the things that he had said. Still, his ego prevented him from sending an Owl to Sirius's place, begging Alison to come back. 

*****


	13. Chapter 13

Alison reappeared in a dingy looking living room. The moth eaten curtains barely kept out the light and the floor was covered in dust. The plaster on the walls was yellowed and peeling. 

'Dad???' she called, 'Dad…are you here?'

Sirius came hurrying out of a door in the corner and stopped short when he saw Alison. He noticed immediately that her eyes were red and puffy. He led her into the kitchen, a much cleaner place, and sat her down on one of the stools near the counter. 

'What happened, Alison? Why are you here? Why aren't you in Puddlemere?' he asked softy.

'Oliver and I, we had a huge fight…and I left. And I wish I hadn't, but I did…oh, daddy! What am I to do?' sobbed Alison. 

'What was the fight about?'

'I…I don't want to talk about it…' replied Alison, before dissolving into tears once again. Sirius didn't pressure her to talk, he knew that she would tell her everything in time. He just wrapped his arms tightly around her and drew her close. Her tears soaked his shirt, but he didn't notice. He was too busy consoling Alison and promising her that things would go back to normal soon as they always did when two people loved each other as much as Oliver and Alison did.  

*****

     Oliver couldn't bear to sit around the house all day. He ought to be out, celebrating the victory, instead of moping around waiting for Alison to walk back through the door so that he could kiss her and tell her how sorry he was. She had been gone barely six hours and already, their home seemed like nothing more than a house, a structure made of cement and bricks, a structure lacking the love and affection required in a home. Darkness had descended outside and Oliver decided to go to the Silver Unicorn. Cedric had once told him that there was nothing more soothing than drowning your sorrows with booze. Olive had mocked Cedric at the time for turning to alcohol instead of thinking things through, but then again, Oliver's biggest sorrows in those days were the loss of a Quidditch match. Now, Oliver could think of no better way to spend the evening. Despite his despondency, the irony of his decision was not lost on him.  
Oliver walked into the pub to find that most of his team mates were already drunk. Jason, being in a highly inebriated state, waved exuberantly at Oliver, but Oliver shook his head and headed for a corner booth, away from the hub of activity and excitement. Through the smoky haze, Oliver suddenly realized that Brett was sitting at the next table with his friend Mark. Oliver didn't make any indication that he had noticed them. Even so, he could hear their conversation clearly. Initially, he paid no attention to the words of the conversation, preferring instead to gulp down his Scotch. But then, he caught Alison's name in the conversation. His back stiffened as he strained his ears t listen to them.

'Alison seemed really cool about it…she must really like you…' remarked Mark. 

'Even so, I don't want anyone to know about us…it would create an uproar to say the least,' replied Brett.

'I don't know about that…they all seem quite accepting…and if they realize that you are truly in love, then maybe they'll understand. Hell, they may even respect you for it.'

'No, Mark, they wont respect me, they wont understand. Look, I made Alison promise not to tell anyone, not even Oliver. I mean, Oliver seems like a really nice guy, but I'm not sure how he'd react to the truth. Alison must have thought the same thing because she didn't contest my desire to keep "us" a secret.'

In his corner, Oliver's mind was whirling. So Alison and Brett had been sleeping together! Alison had lied to him, and what was worse, she had made him feel terrible about doubting her, when in reality, she was guilty…guilty as hell! Half of him wanted to pick up the chair next to him and throw it a Brett's head, but the other half, the reasonable half told him that such an action, no matter what the provocation, would almost certainly end his career with Puddlemere. Priding himself on his self control, he pushed back his chair, summoned an almost untouched bottle of vodka from a nearby empty table and then stalked out of the pub, his blood boiling and his mind screaming, 'Go back and kill him…you know you want to!' As it was, he didn't see Brett touch Mark's hand and whisper, 'I love you, Mark…you know that, right?'

*****

Alison was awakened the next morning by the sound of a loud crash from somewhere downstairs. Almost as if he had sensed her awakening, Sirius' voice floated up the stairs saying, 'Not to worry, it was just a frying pan…'

Alison lay back against the soft pillow and tried to clear her head. Her sleep had been fitful, full of dreams of Oliver, some of them good, most of them bad. She loved him, she realized, loved him more than anything else in the whole wide world, regardless of how juvenile that statement sounded. She resolved to repeat that very statement to Oliver when she went back to him that afternoon. She hopped out of bed, feeling much better than she had the previous day. Her head spun slightly, but when Alison gripped the bedstead, the sensation that she was about to fall over faded away. Deciding that it was probably just the glaring bright light streaming through the windows, Alison began to walk down the stairs. She was nearly at the foot of the rickety brown staircase when the dizziness struck again. Once again, Alison gripped the banister, but this time the spinning didn't stop. If anything, any movement on Alison's part exacerbated it. A searing pain stabbed at her stomach and Alison let out a gasp. She was aware of the world around her getting darker, and then her mind drifted into the oblivion as she fell to the floor with a sickening thud. 

She came to some three hours later. She looked around, her vision blurred and realized that sometime while she had been in her coma of sorts, she had made the transition from her father's dingy house to a place with stark white walls, so white that they seemed to glow from within. She moved her head slightly, and instantly, pain shot through her. Somewhere out of her field of vision, she heard a flurry of activity and Remus' appeared before her. 

'Where's dad?' she croaked, 'and what are you doing here?'

'Your father is lying at your feet. No, don't move…I'm here because your father couldn't bring you to St. Mungo's himself, what with being one of the most wanted criminals around, so he sent for me.'

'What happened…the pain…my stomach…'

'Ahh…yes, well, I suppose the pain in your stomach caused you to fall…you have a minor concussion. But it's nothing serious, or so the healer said.'

'Yes…but what was the cause of the pain in my stomach…I know you know…'

'I'm not sure I should be the one to tell you this, but since your father can't in his state, I suppose I'm going to have to. Alison, this may come as a shock to you…god knows it came as a shock to both myself and your father…you see…you're nearly two months pregnant.'

Alison's breath caught in her throat, and her head began to spin again. 

'I…I can't be pregnant,' she gasped, 'Oliver and I used all sorts of protection…both magical and Muggle. Oh, lord, this can't be happening to me. I can't be pregnant. Please, uncle Remus, tell me that this is just some sort of sick joke that you're playing.'

Remus shook his head sadly. 'No…no, it's not a sick joke…' he whispered. When Alison didn't say a word, he continued, 'Your father told me what happened with Oliver, but even so, I think you should tell him. You owe him that. I mean, maybe you shouldn't see this as a burden, but rather as proof of how much you love each other.'

As Alison thought about that, she wondered if having a baby would be that bad after all. After all, she had always liked babies. Feeling much more cheerful, she sat up and to her surprise, her vision didn't glaze over as she had expected it to. She saw her father sitting at the foot of her bed, and when he saw her sitting up, he stretched his neck and licked her face. 

*****

Oliver had had a terrible day so far. He had woken up that morning with a splitting headache and the most awful hangover in the history of mankind. He had found three empty bottles around him, and a significant amount of it had spilt onto the rug. Although his anger at Alison and Brett had not subsided, it was no longer clouding his thoughts like a dark fog. Then, when he had arrived at practice, he had received a dressing down from Jason for being late. For the next two hours, the team had watched in amazement as Oliver saved only two goals out of about eight. And now…now, a bunch of kids were running havoc with the brooms. True, Jason had given them permission to do so, but Oliver's foul mood was not helped one iota by the fact that a small kid of about seven who could barely stay on his broom managed to get a goal past him. He couldn't even look at Brett and every time Brett said something to him, he simply looked coldly at him in reply. In the end, Brett gave up and retreated to the other end of the pitch. In the locker room after practice, Oliver did apologize to Jason and promised not to drink so much ever again, a promise that he fully intended to keep. But when Oliver brushed past Brett without even saying goodbye, Brett began to wonder if Alison had accidentally told him about Brett being gay. Oliver unlocked the front door to his house, his mind set on one thing alone: sleep. This desire, however, vanished the moment he stepped into the house and was replaced by unbridled fury at the sight of Alison sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting for him. 

Alison had gone over a million different ways by which to break the news to Oliver, and yet, now that he was actually standing in front of her, she was speechless. She scanned his face for any signs of remorse, but all in vain. Oliver's face was so expressionless and his eyes were so hard that it might well have been sculpted in stone. Grasping at the first thing that came to her mind, she asked, 'How was practice, Oliver?'

Oliver's reaction made her wince. His face reddened and his eyes bulged. He glared at Alison and growled, 'Awful, if you must know…stupid children flying around…why anyone would want children is beyond me'

Alison's face fell a fraction. 'Don't you want a child?' she asked uneasily. 

'Of course not! I don't have a death wish. Besides, I'm at a stage right now where I don't need any responsibilities…honestly, a person would have to be completely off his rocker to have a child!'

Alison choked back a sob and tried to keep her voice from quavering too much as she caught hold of Oliver's hand and made him sit down on the couch next to her. 

'Then I must be completely off my rocker, Oliver,' whispered Alison.

'What?' asked Oliver, and for the first time since he had entered the house, he allowed his eyes to mirror the confusion within him. seeing Alison again made him realize how much he loved her and made him hope that whatever had happened with Brett was over, a thing of the past. 

When Alison didn't answer, he took her hand in his own, and asked, 'what are you talking about, Alison?'

 'Oliver…I'm three months pregnant.'

All the anger that had been doused by Alison's reappearance returned with a vengeance. Alison mistook his silence for shock and squeezed his hand gently. Softly, she whispered, 'I love you, Oliver.' Oliver wrenched his hand free of hers and sprang off the couch. 

'No! NO, YOU DON'T! YOU'RE LYING! LIKE YOU'VE BEEN LYING TO ME ALL ALONG!!' yelled Oliver, his rage threatening to engulf him. 

Alison reeled back like she had been slapped. She opened her mouth to protest, but Oliver shouted, 'DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME! WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU'RE PREGNANT?'

'Because you're the father…' replied Alison. 

'I CAN'T BE THE FATHER. YOU KNOW HOW CAREFUL WE'VE BEEN…what I don't understand is why you're not over at Brett's house telling him about this baby.'

'Brett? Why would I tell Brett, Oliver?' pleaded Alison, completely oblivious to what Oliver was insinuating. 

Oliver couldn't believe that Alison was acting so innocent after she had cheated on him with one of his teammates. He couldn't believe that she actually had the gall to come to him and try to pretend that it was his child. Hatred, anger and jealousy clouded his senses and in his angry haze, he yelled, 'BECAUSE BRETT IS THE FATHER…NOT ME, BRETT! DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE TWO OF YOU. I KNOW ALL ABOUT IT, AND I WONDER HOW I COULD HAVE BEEN SO GULLIBLE. I CANT BELIEVE THAT I THOUGHT YOU TRULY LOVED ME.'

Alison's ears stung with the accusations that Oliver was hurling at her. Angry that he doubted her when she had been nothing less than completely faithful, she stood up, and yelled back, 'I NEVER SLEPT WITH BRETT…I NEVER SLEPT WITH ANYONE BUT YOU, OLIVER! We've had this discussion before…'

'Yeah, but that time I made the mistake of believing your lies, a mistake that I will never make again, that much I promise you. Now get out of my house…and don't ever come back.'

'Oh, believe me, Oliver, when I say that I will never ever come near you again. And THIS, I promise you. Goodbye, Oliver.'

And with that, she yanked open the door and ran out into the night. This time, Oliver did not feel the urge to go after her. 

'Why should I?' he asked the walls, 'I'm in the right this time! I regret the day I first laid eyes on Alison Black.'

*****

Remus shook his head in sadness as he looked at Alison lying in the hospital bed with her father sitting by her side. The nurse hadn't liked the idea of letting the great shaggy dog into the hospital again, but in the end, she had had to agree. 

*There must be some limit to the amount of pain that one person can suffer* thought Remus despondently. *First the fight, then the miscarriage, though I'm sure that the latter is a direct consequence of the first.*

And a miscarriage it had been, one caused by a sudden increase in hormone levels, an increase that was characteristic of intense stress and worry. Remus, like Sirius had not been informed of the cause of the fight between Oliver and Alison, just that their relationship-one that the two older men had truly believed would withstand the test of time and tide-was over. Both of them realized that the last thing that Alison needed at that point in time was the third degree regarding what had happened in Puddlemere, so they stuck to safe topics, such as the release of her new song which was due out in two weeks. 

*****

Alison walked into her new apartment, in one of the swankiest buildings in San Francisco. Before she unpacked, she scribbled a note to her father that read "Have reached…please keep your promise, dad." She tied it to the foot of an owl that sat perched on a little stand near the window and whispered, 'Sirius Black' into its ears. She watched as the bird took off out of the open window and soared into the azure sky until it was merely a speck in the distance. 

She turned back to her trunk, sincerely hoping that her father would not break his promise to keep her address a secret from everyone. She pulled off the silver chain that hung around her neck, the chain that Oliver had given her the night he told her that he loved her, the chain that was her only link to her past. Trying not to reminisce, she tucked the chain into a pair of old green socks that she never wore anymore, and hoped against all hope that the old adage, " Out of sight, Out of mind" proved to be true. Little did she know… 

THE END 


End file.
